Where The Sun Kisses The Earth
by MiaGhost
Summary: It wasn't what she wanted, was it? She didn't want to die. None of them were keen -save maybe new legend Octane- for the rush. The Games are a dangerous place. The stakes are high, the risks are higher, and the rewards are hard earned. It's safer at a distance. Closeness makes you weak. Shame the other elites won't let Wraith keep her life that simple. WraithxMirage
1. Chapter 1

_Chapter One_

"Breathe." she gasped, heart hammering as she pressed further into the crevice in the rock, "Goddamn it, _breathe!_"

It wasn't unusual for her, to be whispering to herself, to her lungs, squashed as far into shadow as she could get, but that didn't mean it got any easier. Her lungs were panicked, she knew, starved of oxygen and fuelled by an equally panicked heart. Organs could be such a drag, as Lifeline might say.

Thinking of Lifeline was a bad idea, if she wanted to breathe evenly anytime soon. _A very bad idea_. Instead she closed her eyes, pressed her palms flat against the coarse surface of the mountain and _listened_.

Down, way down from the crack into which she'd squirmed near the peak of one jagged rock face, down where the water was running, _others_ were running. The splashing was loud, loud enough that she heard each footfall, and had she been in better shape she might have allowed herself to chuckle at their stupidity.

Her skin burned. Her neck ached. Though it had been long enough since she'd taken a syringe for it to have worked, she cursed that it was all she'd had.

_If I hadn't given-_

No, breathing. All she could afford to think about right now was _breathing_.

The two-man squad rushing through the water seemed to have lost her trail, for their sounds drew quiet, and further away, but gunfire still spattered on the other side of the mountain. Close enough to require noting, far enough away that she could note it in a minute.

Her sides and her stomach spasmed.

She lifted one hand from the rock to clutch her abdomen, she couldn't help it. The pain was too alive to brace herself against it until the wave passed.

When it did, all at once, she gasped out loud again.

_Shit_.

That one was bad. She needed a medkit. She _needed_ another syringe, maybe two, but a full kit would be so much better. She took a second to thank whoever was in charge of the cafeteria food for whatever they had done to ensure Bloodhound was too sick to participate. On her own, with them on her trail, she'd have been done for already.

As it was, she breathed. She gave herself exactly three minutes to pull her body back under some semblance of control. She cheated and took an extra twenty seconds just to stop the shaking she was left with at the end, when the pain subsided and oxygen returned to her blood. With the adrenaline easing up, she could think clearer, which she needed.

It was just a shame that it left her with that weak nausea and the trembling.

She turned her thoughts on what she was facing, and swallowed hard. With nine other squads still in play, it was a really bad time to be on her own. A _really_ fucking bad time. The knowledge that she'd have to face some still-full squads, on her own, was daunting. Her gear sucked, they'd landed in a low-tier zone and she'd lost a whole lot trying to keep- Trying to keep her team alive.

For a moment, she almost regretted signing back up. Almost. The aftermath, the recovery time, the agony of the procedures that realistically the odds said she was facing, all of it… She wasn't sure she could do it. The knowledge of the pain of it all loomed high and dark in her mind. She shivered involuntarily as her stomach turned.

_Beats the alternative_, _though, right?_

Being on the outside permanently. Life, as it was for norms. Civvies, as-

Normal was hard. Normal was something that she hadn't spent much time learning. The Games made sense, in their own bloody, cut-throat kind of way. You didn't get too close to anyone, and the only thing you had to do was _survive_.

She was a survivor. That was something she knew. Fighting, killing, those were things she knew too.

But the aftermath… If she wanted to live for another Game, she had to endure. Otherwise, what? She just… gave up?

The idea of metaphorically tearing up the details on the chip under her skin, of signing, effectively, her own DNR, was…

It wasn't what she wanted, was it? She didn't want to die. None of them were keen -save maybe Octane- for the rush of reanimation. Sure, in theory death being temporary was better than not, but the process post-games was… Well, there was a reason that they weren't held more regularly. Reanimation was… _indescribable._ She wasn't sure how they stood it, the agony; that sensation of the tearing and reforming of every molecule that they were made from… Only it was that or nothing.

_Stop it._

Permanent termination. The final Game Over.

And she didn't want that either, that much she knew, not yet. Not now, not when-

_Don't_.

She took a deep breath and held it with her eyes screwed shut, and counted to ten. When she let it out again, she let it travel off her shoulders, down her arms, through her fingertips into her thighs and from her legs to her toes to the earth underneath.

She could do this. She _had_ done this. She could focus, she could get in, get gear, and she could get out. She could stalk, she could hide, and she could disappear. She could do this. She could win.

When Wraith opened her eyes again, they were steeled with new determination.

_The win is out there, and it's waiting for me._


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter Two_

Throwing herself into the Void, she felt the breath of the bullet as it tore past where she would have been. Her skin tightened and itched, and she forced herself to move against the tearing in her guts.

She danced through the void stream, the strain building with every second that she clung to the insubstantial threads of the other world. Pathfinder was shouting, someone was running, her heartbeat was screaming in her ears. She could taste blood behind the growing wasp's nest buzzing in her head.

She scrounged up a little more willpower, the extra second she needed to-

It was too much.

Wraith gasped in a breath of cooled air as she dropped back into the world. Everything was bright, the space around her an oppressive presence, like being doused in rainwater in a huge room. Her gun barked as she fired with little care, diving to one side and trying to lay her eyes on cover while trying to aim too, at the lime robot who had caught her unawares and was trying to clip her with a Wingman.

_Get down!_

She found her body in an instinctive roll, enough momentum to throw her over her own shoulder to her left. Several rounds clipped the dried earth where she'd been.

"It's Wraith!" yelled a voice from behind her, somewhere, Pathfinder-

_Shit, the other team!_

She coiled into a crouch and leapt further away from the robot in front of her, suppressing the weak instinct to look for the other behind her. The call was ranged, at least. A couple seconds, she had a couple seconds. Where had the green robot's teammate gone? She'd seen her-

A hot pain singed her shoulder, just as a heatblast hit her front, the force knocking her back from the boulder she'd almost thrown herself behind.

_Grenades! Back off!_

Wraith dropped to her knees and rolled to her left again, angling herself away from the screaming pain in her right, and when she hit her feet again she started running.

A startled howl rose behind her, and then it cut off, the harsh thump of a falling body.

The robot, whose name she'd not bothered to learn. Down. No cry for help, probably dead then.

A quick, sharp burst of Flatline fire.

Definitely dead, then.

She gathered up her nerve, gritting her teeth hard against the growing, burning, crying pain. It would ease, in a minute. It would. She knew, it would. She just had to-

_You're in their sights._

Shit, shit, shit.

Wraith tore open the fabric of the air and dove into it. Something tickled her ankle, but now was not the time. Her lungs hurt, fierce heat as she tried to steady her breath along with holding everything else together. She couldn't entertain the doubt. She simply didn't have the _time_. She raced, weaving, her sights set on the gleaming black of the cages. If she could get to there, if she could hold out until she had _cover-_

Gunfire was whizzing by her, trajectory warping around her, but they were catching up.

Her head was buzzing, her lungs were closing up. Everything was heat and pain. Her energy took a hard hit. Her will ebbed, the pain began to take over.

_Shit_.

With a broken cry she let it go, tumbling back into the world on suddenly shaky footing. She stumbled, forcing herself to keep running, tears streaming down one cheek from the sheer agony of- fuck_, of everything_.

The uneven ground greeted her toes and she corrected her balance, relief flashing briefly through her. She dropped her weave, choosing speed over elusiveness, and hurtled along the red sandstone to the drop she knew was there.

When it appeared she skid, dropping into a slide and careening over one ledge to the next, suddenly veering sharply to the right and biting her tongue against the pain of rock grating her new wound.

As she'd hoped, her pursuer continued right over to the next ledge, his head whipping around as he realised she wasn't further down the stair-like rockface.

Her round caught him in the back, sending him to his knees with a breathless cry. She'd knocked the wind from him and hastened to secure the kill. Her second round missed, as he twisted to one side and onto his back, pointing his Mozambique right at her.

The first shot grazed her elbow and she almost lost her balance, returning fire in surprise. She missed by a foot, and before she had time to fumble for the reload, he'd fired again. It missed her ear by so little that her head rang with the force of it.

Her fingers were rubber with adrenaline, and she dropped the new clip at her feet as she scrabbled to put distance between them. If he got lucky with that third shot he'd-

The rock by her cheek exploded, and she dropped to her elbows, crying out from the responding tear in her bleeding shoulder.

The voices had been quiet, allowing her her focus but now they clamoured with new information, sounds she was ignoring, the running feet that were gaining ground, were-

_Getting closer!_

His teammate, or the robot's? Did it matter? She'd be dead either way if she couldn't-

She slammed the clip in and drew herself up to her knees to level her P2020 at him. As she finally caught sight of his face, screwed up in pain and fear and the adrenaline-panic she was feeling herself, she realised why he'd been so hard to kill.

Perhaps her closest opponent, as he'd been for many Games by now.

She drew a breath, listening now to the closing footfalls. He looked her way, knowing he was gotten, despite how his fingers still shook and raced to force the new cartridge into his weapon.

"Unlucky drop." she gasped out, aware she didn't have time for smalltalk and yet unable to help herself, as she often found she was when it was one of the elites. Well, when it was one of a select few.

If he was surprised she'd wasted her advantage to say it, he didn't show it. But then, his face was marred with grit and sand and blood and pain. As hers was sure to be too. And Wraith hardened her heart.

The click alerted her, as soon as the voices, sooner maybe. She slid down, watching his hands raise the gun at her.

She put two shots in his heart, turning before their job was even done, levelling her pistol at the ridge above her head as the footsteps thundered closer still.

"Mirage!" the robot yelled, and Wraith had no time to regret the emotion she heard in the cry before she'd emptied her clip into his chest.

Before he'd even hit the ground she'd launched herself up over the ledge to him, dragging out her Peacekeeper and putting him down before his shield had even crackled to life in front of him.

She took a breath, and as she released it the siren was blaring, that awful victory music forcing all other sound to the sidelines.

Her head fell silent. The buzzing, the voices, all of it. Gone, leaving her body all at once a vacuum, the lightness dizzying.

Her knees finally gave, and all of her wounds began to make themselves known. Her vision wavered.

Overhead, there was a familiar rumbling drone, they were coming for her.

She slumped further, exhaustion seizing hold of her. She was done. It was over. The voices were gone to rest too. They were sated, for now. The job was done once more.


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter Three_

Wraith lay on the bed as they told her. She gritted her teeth through the scans, watched them retrieve bullets and shrapnel, let them stitch and inject. Although it made every nerve burn to lie so still and them the prod at her, she'd long since learned to.

_Not worth the alternative measures._

Besides, when the pains were gone she could convince herself it made it worth the invasions.

They weren't so busy, this time; she'd kept herself mostly unscathed. That was progress, evidence she was improving.

Or just luckier than last time.

As it was, she retreated into the familiar area in the very back of her own head like always, holding tight to those facts.

_It's not as bad as it could be._

_It's not as bad as it's been before._

_It's not the facility._

_You're safe._

Wraith focused on the beat of her heart, on the motion of it in her chest. She willed it to stay calm and regular, and forced all lesser sensations aside.

It was sooner than she expected that a voice broke her stupor.

"Alright, that's the worst of it. You've done well, Wraith. We're done poking at you, love."

A very light touch to her shoulder.

She blinked, registering the room, and the faces in it. Two were familiar, one much more so than the other.

She forced herself to smile.

The nurse beamed back, offering her the straw in a plastic cup of water that was almost sure to hold some kind of painkiller and necessary vitamins. She turned her head gratefully, her thirst returned at once. She'd lost her pack near the end of that Game and it was hot out there by Skull Town. They'd fought their last battle just after morning, and she bit back the wince at the instant sensory memory of the scorching heat drying her blood on her skin.

"Thank you." she scratched out.

The familiar nurse only smiled at her again.

"That's what I'm here for." she hummed pleasantly, as Wraith had known she would.

After her first Games, Wraith had been a mess. She'd only barely scraped past death and the other survivor on her team had all but abandoned her long before.

He'd ended as Kill Leader, but it was her who'd confirmed that final kill and ultimately secured their win, and their lives.

When she'd been brought through to the Station after, her body had been falling into shock and her consciousness had been wavering in and out between violent spasms.

She'd gotten blood everywhere, she remembered that. As experienced and exceptionally trained as the Legends were assured their Health Teams were, she'd seen the out of place panic on their faces as they'd worked on her.

What with convulsions, her massive blood loss, disorientation and visceral abhorrence to being touched, she'd almost died there. Her surgeon and his nurses saved her life, despite her body's best efforts to thwart their ministrations, and after it was all over it had been that young nurse who was standing by her bed when Wraith first regained consciousness.

She'd been cautious and soothing, catering to Wraith's dislike of physical contact as though she'd known it intimately.

She was marred by Wraith's blood, her scrubs and gloves coated in layers both drying and fresh. She'd been exhausted by the procedure, that much was obvious in every worn line of her face and posture, her likely once neatly pinned hair com ing lose in blood-speckled frizz.

But she'd smiled warmly at Wraith and welcomed her back into the land of the living, and after what she'd gone through Wraith couldn't help but take her kindness to heart.

Later, back in her right mind and without the life-ending agony, Wraith had concluded that it was her impaired state which had made her respond so emotionally to what was really a small amount of kindness. Her team had been professionally uncooperative and lacking in cohesion, not that she's expected to be looked after in the Ring. But she'd gone looking for teamwork, admittedly, and she'd been unable to find it.

She blamed that too, for her taking a liking to the young nurse with the warm smile. In a state like she'd been, after the ordeal of her first Games, it was only human to appreciate a little kindness. Despite all her oddities Wraith was, in fact, human.

"You feeling ready to sit up?"

Wraith nodded instantly, desperate to not feel quite so vulnerable. There were few nurses she'd encountered who understood that.

Another smile.

"I figured as much. Your 'killers are gonna kick in pretty soon and you'll get that woozy feeling. But I'm sure you'll pass through it fairly quick."

After that first time, Wraith had had other Games with other nurses and even with lesser wounds all round she'd been less than easy to manage. Those were earlier days, she'd made a lot of efforts to keep hold of herself since then. Dissolving into hysterics in desperate bids to get away only made her condition worse and the measures to secure her were always, always, worse.

The nurses had told her she was a difficult patient. She'd gotten quite clearly the message that they all dreaded being assigned to her.

But she was trying, damn it, and they'd never know it.

This nurse was a much better option.

Seeing her step into the room in the aftermath always made Wraith breathe a touch easier. She was young, looking more like she should be telling little kids stories before bedtime than standing in those rooms dripping with other people's blood and readying needles.

But she didn't touch Wraith more than necessary, and she seemed to know the things Wraith didn't want to, _couldn't_, say.

Wraith would never admit to anyone how much it affected her to always receive a reassuring smile from her. How very important it had been to her in those early days.

As she swiftly sorted Wraith's blankets and left with a promise to bring her some lunch, Wraith held her cup and watched her go.

There was little real comfort to be found in Game aftermath. But that nurse had always brought her some.


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter Four_

Finally escaping the med bed was a relief, the discharge could never come soon enough. Despite the still throbbing pains that were yet to ebb, and the sharp twanging in one ankle that made walking straight unpleasant, Wraith always felt better when she was released.

She limped down the corridor, adjusting her weight every few steps as she adjusted. She ignored the large wall-signs guiding her towards some of the bigger rec rooms, the dorms, the city centre outside. What she sought was quieter, peaceful. A place where her mind could be allowed to wander without much fear of interruption.

A wandering mind would ease her aches until the meds had done their job completely.

The library loomed over the glass walkway, the cocooned bridge access to an admittedly beautiful view of the compound and the hills and sands that raced away from it. The bustle of markets and buildings were attractive to, in their own ways, the sea pier, the airports the same.

But this quiet, this free view, was an escapists dream.

She was fairly lost in thought when she sensed them entering the hall corridor from the far end, a brief whisper in her ear. She'd browsed for a while, only in part aware of the books beneath her fingertips, the smell of paper and inks. She'd chosen something without really seeing what it was, it's cover murmuring to the whorls of her skin.

She lifted her hand a few inches from the railing in greeting, half-hearted for most, but typical for her. It was growing dark outside the windows where she stood.

"Hey," Bangalore greeted with a small smile as they neared, "I believe congratulations are in order."

Wraith ducked her head a touch, glancing away.

"Same back at you."

The medic with her was predictably warmer, bounding up next to Wraith to squeeze her in a hug before she could escape. Her companion looked on, amused.

"We were expectin' t' see ya!" she cried, as Wraith wriggled free, "Once they told us the good news!"

"Oh." Wraith shrugged uncomfortably as she backed up a few paces, resisting the urge to draw her arms around herself.

_Safe_.

"To be honest, I wasn't that surprised you weren't in the med-wing to celebrate." Bangalore corrected in her usual wry manner.

Wraith turned her head an inch or so to one side. It was no secret she wasn't the mushy after-match kind of person. She didn't celebrate. Not the way the others did. A quiet drink in one of the pubs was one thing.

"We didn' know we'd won, brethren! You played us real sweet." Lifeline chuckled, bopping Wraith's side lightly with one elbow.

"Thought I'd give you time to recover." she answered, shifting a few inches to the side.

_Thought I'd give you time to get over my not saving you,_ she didn't say.

"That was some fight for you, was it no?" the medic praised her, grin toothy, "Had to be a dozen squads lef' when we were dropped."

Bangalore hummed in agreement, head cocking to the side. Wraith watched the memory of the fight show on her face, the brief clenching of her jaw.

"Ten, I think." she corrected, "Or nine."

"Nine others, yeah." Wraith agreed, twisting her hands in the ends of her sleeves.

For a moment, her words hung in the air. Nine other squads.

"I couldn't get the chance," she explained awkwardly, "by the time I got away, and with no kit, it was too far to go back…"

Lifeline only shrugged, and shook her head.

"You tried." she answered, as though she'd seen so already, though Wraith knew the footage wasn't cut yet.

That was just just how the medic was, and Wraith had to restrain herself from dwelling yet again on how one could get to have such easy faith in others.

"The ring is unforgiving." Bangalore asserted after a moment, giving Wraith a gentler smile, "Sometimes luck takes it from you, that's just how it can go."

Wraith nodded self-consciously, but felt her face faintly smiling back.

"Besides," the soldier snorted, "You secured us the win."

"An easy ride." Lifeline laughed with her, offering a high-five that the taller woman completed with a smirk.

Sharing a moment of humour with these two women was getting easier with time. It would perhaps take a while longer to stop surprising her, and longer still to stop feeling so uneasy.

Keeping her distance was safest, it came naturally to her. She'd never planned or tried to get close to anyone here. Or anyone ever, for that matter. Closeness would make her weak. Cloud her judgement, crumble her advantage.

But it would seem that some of the elites just wouldn't let her keep all her walls, or all her distance.

And it was strange to her to find it wasn't so unpleasant, sometimes, to be around them when she didn't need to be for battle.

"Come on." Bangalore started towards the doors, with a gesture of her arm that Wraith flinched away from, lest it be thrown around her shoulders.

If either woman noticed, neither showed it.

"To the canteen!" Lifeline called, like a rally-cry, "For good food in good comp'ny!"

Despite not being hungry, Wraith found herself following without argument.


	5. Chapter 5

_Chapter Five_

Wraith trailed the prongs of her fork through the soft potato on her plate as she listened to the story Bangalore was telling. The typically stoic woman was more relaxed than Wraith usually saw her, and a lot of that was down to the medic's easy company.

As she absorbed the details of a battle fierce and fraught, Wraith let her senses wander the busy room, seeing without fully looking. Besides themselves, there were several other Legends, and many faces new to Wraith. Everybody had a first time. And she could tell by looking who had been shocked awake by the experience, and who would not be returning, written in haunted eyes and puffy faces and trembles.

Dying and living again was an attractive prospect on paper. But the reality wasn't something you could understand until you'd lived it.

Bloodhound was alone at a corner table, looking better than they had when she'd last seen them, but it was easy to note the pallor of their skin and the grey sheen under their eyes from little sleep. She felt a small flicker in her gut.

_Guilt_.

She'd thanked whoever had given her the break of Bloodhound's keen eyes on her trail, but Bloodhound themself looked pretty ill, still.

As though they'd felt her gaze, Bloodhound glanced her way, a slight smile grazing their lips as they nodded to her. Wraith returned the acknowledgement, and they looked away.

A table further into the centre of the spacious seating area was occupied by a group of new faces, all gathered around the small wooden surface to listen to the tales of the latest Legend there, no doubt. Though Wraith had yet to have any interaction with Octane, it was clear to her she would soon. Loud and obnoxious, she'd watched his first Games only two months ago, where he debuted and wowed successfully.

His chosen name admittedly well-suited, Octane in few words, was _fast_. He spoke fast, he thought fast, and he moved fast. He'd lost his legs and replaced them with metals, at some point, or had them purposefully removed. Which didn't seem out of the realm of possibility to Wraith, having gleaned what she had about him so far. A speedster, a daredevil. Put simply; an adrenaline junkie. He rushed into danger with a laugh and enjoyed dodging fire. Wraith was wary, of course, but didn't feel threatened.

He'd played his last Games a week ago, Wraith knew this was why she'd yet to face him. There was a minimum three-week Rec period between appearances in the Arena. Sign-up wouldn't allow you to return any sooner. So far he'd played every match he'd been able, and Wraith was unsurprised to know that, given that she herself was much the same. Every three weeks, like clockwork. Many of the other Legends, and indeed the Elites, were the same, often signing up to the same matches are other Legends. Some Games drew smaller audiences because of that, but for most people a Game was a Game, even if the biggest name in the field was only mid-tier.

Even across the loud room, Octane's raucous laughter filtered through it as he slapped the tabletop. The new faces surrounding him looked much enthralled, and she could only roll her eyes.

As for his story, Wraith didn't know it. She wasn't in the habit of looking up people's histories. For one, who knew what information out there was true, and what wasn't? The Legends would tell her what they wanted to, and Wraith would learn much of the rest from watching.

Dr. Caustic crossed her field of vision, looking slightly less bulky without his heavy suit and overalls. Passing her table he glanced down, offering her a twitch of his lips as he nodded to her. Wraith returned the expression, and his eyes glinted as he turned away.

"You know, I always though' that Nita needed ta learn how t' smile." murmured Lifeline, leaning around their companion to share a look with Wraith, "but he takes the cake."

Bangalore let out a quiet chuckle, reaching for her glass.

"You think everybody needs to learn how to smile."

Lifeline only laughed at her.

"True." she admitted, her gaze trailing over to where the doctor has seated himself beside Bloodhound. "But he don' even make small talk half the time. 'e jus sits there. _observing'_."

Wraith's mouth twitched at that, for Lifeline and Bangalore were both right. Though he'd sought out the talented tracker in the busy room, neither was speaking as they sat side by side and ate. What Lifeline had said about the small talk was accurate, but Wraith found it less strange a thing. Sitting in the quiet was good. Oftentimes she missed it, when she were crowded into booths by others, - most often Liefeline and Bangalore - for it seemed to be the medic's calling to join those alone, and it seemed to Wraith that the bubbly girl was Bangalore's closest friend.

"He likes you though." the soldier commented, smirking a little around her glass when Wraith looked back at her.

Lifeline chuckled.

"True." she hummed, "True."

Seeing that she wasn't quite following, Bangalore elaborated.

"Caustic," repeated, "he likes you. Fighting with you. Anyone can tell. He has a respect for you."

"Unlike some of the others." the medic added, her eyes roaming the room.

Wraith was watching the doctor, pondering their words, when Bangalore grunted under her breath.

"Speaking of."

One of the doors further down one wall had just opened, before a recognisable blue MRVN unit stepped through. Considering that Pathfinder didn't eat, his entering the place was likely to mean-

Yep.

Behind the robot followed perhaps the only Legend to actively seek his company. Smug and obnoxious and, as Lifeline put out once, devilishly dashing, Mirage had been rising through the ranks lately. He was good, fast and sneaky and a more-than-decent shot. But so far he'd never succeeded in getting the upper hand on Wraith, nor Bangalore or Lifeline, that Wraith knew of. She kept a loose track of things like that, who was skilled where. Knowing the enemy was the best way to out-shoot or out-run them. Out-think, when possible.

He was chatting to his robotic companion, looking as amused as usual, motioning his point with his hands as they headed to the rotary where the food lay ready. He'd changed out of his dust suit, but he still sported khakis under the dark top, a bomber jacket in a matching canvas beige. He'd lost the headband, his hair drawn back messily. Entirely on purpose, probably. Wraith had noticed how he paid attention to his image. She figured he and Pathfinder were well-matched, with their need for attention.

She didn't know his story, of course. But the want for attention was easy to spot. And Pathfinder had already disclosed to most everyone why he wanted to win a spotlight. So far the MRVN unit had a single win under his belt. He's been drafted with Wraith in one of his early games, with Bloodhound. The three of them had gathered some loot from a lucky drop and stalked for most of the game. Unlike many of the other participants in the Games, Wraith didn't chase kills.

A win was a win, in her book. And fighting was all very fine and well of course, but pain was pain, and if she could keep her mind as sharp as possible by avoiding it, why shouldn't she?

With Bloodhound's tracking abilities, Pathfinder's quick assembly of zip lines and his reading of the Arena beacons, the three of them had skirted danger zones and found good end-game ground, settling in to wait for enemy teams to come to them. She'd done most of the fighting, throwing herself down from their perch through holes she'd torn in the fabric of the air, and she'd gotten Lifeline before the other woman had even seen her. The second member had been a new face, bright eyed and unaware of just how _fast_ a fight could go down. Wraith dropped him quickly with two pulls from her Hemlok when he'd taken aim at Bloodhound on the rooftop. It had been easy enough to drop back into the Void when the third guy turned his fire on her, and Pathfinder had followed up with a few quick shots from his LongBow.

"Word in the bay is that you took their squad down yourself."

Wraith was brought back to the table in the mess hall, nodding vaguely to Bangalore as she watched the two Legends find a table.

"They were the last alive. Just the two of them."

"Good fight." Lifeline asserted with a hum, "Pathfinder is a wicked shot, girl."

Wraith returned to eating, watching the room again as her companions fell back into conversation easily. Pathfinder was quickly engaged in conversation too, eagerly turning to the new fighter who pulled her chair over to his side. Mirage ate with a grin on his face, relaxed, leaning back in his chair in a nonchalance Wraith would always find odd.

Bangalore had spoken often of it since his appearance on their rosters, how it irritated her. How she could so rarely take him seriously. Lifeline didn't think he was quite that bad, but then again Lifeline didn't think _anyone_ was quite that bad.

It took a long time for him to feel her gaze, but when he did turn his head her way, eyes lighting in recognition as he spotted her, Wraith held his gaze. He'd paused, catching sight of her, but after a second he smiled, raising the fingers of one hand in a wave.

Wraith's fingers curled reflexively around her fork and her other arm, but she dipped her head in a nod. Satisfied, he turned back to his companions and let out a laugh at whatever had just been said, head thrown back as he did so.

At least he didn't look sour at having been beaten, she decided, only feeling the odd discomfort in her gut as it began to dissipate.


	6. Chapter 6

_Chapter Six_

It was common knowledge among participants that the Game footage would be available, if it was wanted. It was also a long-standing tradition that the Legends gather in one of the bigger Rec rooms to relive the battle, from the safety of seats and other perches. It was a strangely intimate experience, in Wraith's opinion. Players, killers, gathered in a room with snacks and drink and beanbags to watch themselves and others kill, and die bloody on the screen.

It was also common knowledge that she wouldn't attend, and it was rare that anyone mentioned it to her these days, a fact that suited Wraith. She liked the library, where it was quiet. Where the books kept mind busy and information could be hunted. But she had also taken to stalking the dimly lit halls in the evenings, slipping out into the night air to walk the streets of the local town, the deserted marketplaces quiet and invitingly eery with their wares gone.

She'd spent the evening, and indeed a good part of the night on the roof of one of the harder buildings to scale, propped against a chimney pot with the cool chill of the brick seeping familiarly through her layers. She tucked her knees under her chin and watched the city fall asleep, comforting smoke curling into the sapphire of the sky.

She let her mind wander, allowing the lull of the night to surround her, to fill her breaths with calm. Existence was a strange thing. Their existence here, at this place, and in their line of what could hardly be called work, was interesting. There were whispers from the Voices of other existences, other versions of the world they occupied. Sometimes they would come to her at night and whisper into her dreams, and Wraith would see things happen in ways they wouldn't here, or indeed ways they had the potential to.

Wraith listened to the quiet of the Voices tonight and watched the sky. Existence was a fine thing, and a cursed one. But she was content with it, right then.

The stars had long been silver speckles above her when she finally stretched herself out and dropped down to the street.

The sprawling buildings of the GamesHub were quieter now too. Not ever truly asleep, but comfortably sleepy. Wraith wandered down the hallways, her thoughts far away, blessedly calm. She was worn out, which was to be expected. She was still recovering. Medical science was a wonderful thing, but her human body was still flesh and blood.

It was while passing through a main hall that she was interrupted, and she cursed her own distracted mind for the fact that she didn't sense his appearance until it was too late.

"Welllll, if it isn't the woman of the hour!"

She flinched from his bright voice, noting the sound, and indeed smell, of liquor.

"Mirage." she greeted, putting several steps between them as he approached.

"Hiya." he answered, his face furrowing slightly. "_Hiya_." he repeated, much softer, his expression relaxing again.

She nodded to him, and didn't stop her feet. Not that it dissuaded him, for he simply kept pace, striking up a conversation in an easy manner as though they did so often, seemingly oblivious to how very clear she was trying to be about her reluctance to talk.

She hummed noncommittally in response to his comments about the Game, nodding whenever he looked to her for confirmation of points he was raising. Points Wraith was only paying half attention to as she willed the dorm corridors closer.

"- and that was around when I realised it could be done, you know?"

"Hm."

"And we would've too, only that frog guy got in the way and the his squad were everywhere and it was a bit of coshoi- cotiom- conotiom- ah, mess."

He fell quiet suddenly, and it took Wraith a second for it to register, and a second further to realise he'd stuttered. She glanced sideways without meaning to, catching the frustrated look on his face. It surprised her that pity curled faintly in her gut.

"But you got out of it." she prompted, regretting it instantly and wondering why she'd even bothered.

Mirage seemed to remember where he was, and his easy grin slid over his face once more.

"Oh, sure. We got out of that no problems."

"I see."

He hummed, stumbling a little over his feet as they turned a corner.

_Only two corridors to go._

Wraith upped her step a little, watching as Mirage of course met it, even if he swayed a little as he did. He'd had more than a little to drink, that much was obvious. Wraith wondered whether he'd been drinking for placing second, or for losing.

Or for the pain.

A lot of Legends burned out, after months or years of the reanimation process. Killing and being killed took a toll, and not just on the body. Alcohol was a poor substitute for peace of mind, but he wouldn't be the first who'd turned to it for comfort. Or for a sleep aid.

Wraith wasn't sure why the thought made her uncomfortable.

She had a drink herself, every now and then. Sometimes she even drank a whole bottle of something in a high place, watching the city sleep like she had tonight. But she knew what it could do, to a Legend. And she was careful in all things. The Voices kept her right, too. They wouldn't let her slip like that, not far enough that she couldn't climb back up.

She pushed out of her mind the question of whether Mirage was being careful. That was his business. Not hers.

And besides, what did it matter to her.

"You were awesome out there, you know."

Wraith was caught by surprise, the words quiet in the hush filling the corridor. His expression had changed, and it made Wraith shift a few extra inches away.

He wasn't even looking her way, his comment off-hand. She didn't answer. They walked on down the last corridor in silence, relief filling Wraith as the doors came into view. She was near the end corner of the left hall, in a room mildly isolated, which suited her fine. She made the turn without acknowledging him, but he followed anyway.

Her skin prickled a little and she felt irritation wakening. She wished he'd leave, now. Instead he kept pace with her the entire way, and when she got to her door and pulled her pass key, he halted right beside her still.

She shot him an irritated look, raising an eyebrow when he only looked back at her blandly. It seemed being drunk was making him stupid tonight, something Wraith had observed about him on only one previous occasion.

"Do you mind?" she asked pointedly, barely keeping her tone civil.

Her aching muscles grumbled at her, and she was fast losing patience. Mirage didn't seem to catch her drift. In fact, he didn't even seem to hear her at all. Instead he looked at her again, strangely, very… serious, almost, and spoke again in that quiet way.

"You were awesome."

Wraith's senses were muttering loudly, he was standing very close to her, his height advantage more apparent than usual. It didn't seem to have occurred to him, but Wraith's instincts were beginning to nudge and urge her to put more distance there, in that space between them.

"I've been a Legend a long time." she bit out, hand curling around the handle of her door.

Still he didn't move. Wraith closed her eyes and swallowed down a frustrated growl. She was beginning to feel boxed in.

"Yeah." he answered absently, with that far away look in his eyes again, and it occurred to Wraith that she wasn't standing there out of politeness, it was her damned curiosity that was keeping her there.

She snorted and opened her door a crack.

"Goodnight, Mirage." she said, and slipped inside with only the click of the door closing as her reply.


	7. Chapter 7

_Chapter Seven_

The days after her Games set in, like they always did. Routined, calm. Wraith bid goodbye to the Legends returning to their homes, families. She even waved Lifeline and Bangalore on their way, unsurprised they were heading out on part of the journey together. Bangalore's bike roared as she kicked the started, and Lifeline threw Wraith a gentle grin as she wound her arms around her friend as Bangalore's cue to head out.

The corridors were quiet, much of the bulk of people gone. The place would get busier again, in four or five days, when the next Games' participants arrived to get ready for battle. But for that middle time in the week, it was quiet. Few people were like Wraith, living in the facility. She had no home to leave for, no family waiting. The others sometimes used to ask her about that, the few who'd dared to, anyway, but Wraith was content with what they considered lonely.

She was happy, even, if she was ever truly happy.

Sometimes people stayed an extra day or so, comforted by the routine and order, before they felt ready to go home again. The Games changed you. Sometimes people weren't really ready to go back into the outside world again so soon.

And then there were the cases truly like Wraith, the ones orphaned by life. Or maybe even ones who'd orphaned themselves, cutting ties to make things easier. Wraith had seen several of those, in her time. Few kept it up for long, many eventually returned home or left altogether.

As she walked the quiet halls, she absently debated where to go. She didn't want to go to her room just yet, and it was a little too early to eat again. She made course for the Library.

A pair of new legends passed her quietly, nodding to her with brief smiles and continuing on their way. It was something Wraith was glad for, those who left her alone. She remembered without fondness having to make excuses, or snap and evade people when she was new, people who saw her skill and wanted a piece of it, people who wanted to know what made her tick so they could take her down.

And admittedly others, people who pitied her, or wanted to befriend her. She liked that, for the most part, she was left alone by the ones she didn't want to be around. The better informed, the Elites, they were good people. Sure, perhaps not always good _morally_ or _ethically_, it was true there were criminals and oddballs and probable sociopaths in there too. But they were preferable people. People who had enough sense to give her space. People she could work with.

Wraith's skin itched, and she realised her mind wasn't settling. It'd be hard to concentrate like this. She paused, standing still in the corridor with the smell of the clean carpet under her feet, and decided.

Slipping outside made her feel a little better instantly, and she headed for the training fields. A morning there would help soothe this.

-AAA-

Noon was on its way out when she was interrupted. Wraith paused, sensing the changes in the air. She huffed. Typical. She reloaded her rifle, fiddling with the PDA she'd taken to use the various training programs. The programmed enemies firing from the ridges disappeared, and the arena fell quiet.

She turned to watch his approach, from her vantage point he was still a few hundred metres out. The notion to run was unnecessary, but it _was_ tempting.

He had a duffle over one shoulder and a gun under his arm.

"Thought I'd find you here!" he called cheerfully, and Wraith wished she'd run.

She raised her eyebrows.

He shrugged, grinning.

"Thought we could train together. That was a close fight, you know. I almost had you."

Wraith rolled her eyes, ignoring the little bit of truth in there.

"You didn't."

Mirage laughed.

"No," he returned, "but I nearly did."

Wraith was opening her mouth to answer when the whisper caught her by surprise. She dropped and rolled, back on her feet a few steps away when the flash bang landed.

She'd chosen live rounds, for training. It was unusual for training, but Wraith preferred to feel the real weight of it when she fired, and she disliked the faint inaccuracies of blanks, even the projectile ones that made impact, like paintballs or the soft pellets.

She resisted the urge to turn her gun on him just yet, but she was required to declare her ammunition.

"I'm on live." she informed him, enjoying the surprise on his face from her new position.

"I- eh- it-it- I ah." he halted, swallowed, and looked sheepish. "I'm on paint."

Wraith nodded. She'd figured.

"I _did_ bring two rifles, if you're interested. I don't feel like being _that_ wounded again so soon."

Wraith smiled briefly, by accident.

"Alright."

While he was blinking, obviously having expected her to refuse, Wraith emptied the chamber of her rifle and locked the safety, slinging it over the branch of the nearest tree for collection on her way out.

Mirage watched her with a growing smile, holding two guns out when she turned to him.

"Flatline or Carbine?"

Wraith debated, before taking the R-301.

"Okay." he answered brightly, slipping into a more focused tone as he dropped the duffle bag at his feet.

He pulled out vests, and thin helmets with paint visors, passing one of each to her.

She set her PDA accordingly, feeling the brief tingle in the air as it connected with her gear to track her hits. Without real fire, the setting would inform them of wounds and damage, should they want to act according in the most realistic version of battle.

Of course, many used the paintball setting to let off steam and have a bit of fun, with winning and losing not really mattering.

Wraith wasn't great at participating in that kind of setting, everybody knew that.

But the gear would track her wounds for her, and she would respond accordingly. It was good practice, and good information. It was always good to stay sharp. And knowing the enemy was knowing the fight.

"You ready?"

Wraith dragged herself from her head.

"Sure."

Mirage ran, and Wraith found cover before firing.

-AAA-

"I _don't,"_ she snarled, rounding on him and punctuating the words by cocking her weapon at his chest, "need your _help_!"

Her lip curled back over her teeth and for a moment she looked as she did in battle.

Like something wild.

She could feel it prowling around her spine, that sensation. It'd followed her as long as her memory went, she knew it as well as she knew her own heartbeat. The notion to pull the trigger was brief, gone before it registered.

She reigned it in and tossed the weight of the gun in her hand, swiftly clicking the safety back into place. For a second, she found herself reluctant to meet his eye again, and covered the feeling by blowing out a sharp breath and tossing her head.

They'd been out here a few hours, she was far too deeply dug into a battle mindset.

"This is why you lose." she bit out, instead of what she wanted to ask, if she wounded him enough with words maybe he'd- "You underestimate."

Mirage flashed an easy-come grin and leaned back on his hands where he was, in the dirt. Wraith's irritation flared hotly. Did he take nothing seriously?

"Are you giving me training tips right now?"

Wraith growled and flicked the safety back off with a snap. He seemed entirely unfazed.

"Don't push it."

When he only laughed, her frustration roared under her skin. She needed to let off some steam, but he was almost sure to follow her. Her trigger finger itched. His whole attitude bothered her, more than it usually did.

She could see what Bangalore meant.

"Just leave me be." she muttered, steeling herself and throwing open a portal.

Dropping out of the other side panting, Wraith lay on the grass and willed the pain to subside. It was foolish to waste her strength on that without need, her body crying out in agony when it needn't. But it was the only way to ensure he couldn't just walk along behind her, the portal collapsing after her as she willed it to.

Why it was so important to get away from him, she couldn't quite decide. Most of the other elites were better at leaving her alone when she wanted them to. And the lesser legends were more afraid of her. If she didn't know better already, she'd think he was just stupid. But she'd seen him in battle, and she knew he _did_ have a good sense for danger. It would seem he just liked pushing everyone's buttons, and didn't look like he required a reason to.

Her energy ebbed, the wasps in her bloodstream making all her muscles tense, and the thought of getting to her feet made her stomach roil. It might need to wait.

Wraith closed her eyes and did her best to unclench her jaw, every muscle in her face sore now too. She focused on the breathing, feeling exhaustion tugging weakly at her edges. Her body clock told her it was still not all that long before evening. She could nap here for a bit, on the hilltop. It was safe, and unlikely anybody else would stumble upon her and do her harm.

What would be the point, in the training field?

She ignored the unease of being so unprotected, and let sleep take her.


	8. Chapter 8

_Chapter Eight_

Wraith was one of the first in the canteen. It was true that eating early helped her avoid the others, but she was awake early most days anyway. She didn't sleep much. She never had, really.

At the beginnings of her memory, it was the nightmares. Well, there have always been nightmares, but you get used to them. These days, it wasn't anything in particular. Sure, the whispers didn't help, or the visions, or the truths from the other worlds.

But she just wasn't really a sleeper. A few hours and she was fine.

She dropped scrambled eggs atop the toast on her plate and wandered to her favourite booth with a strong coffee. While she ate, her mind wandered familiar paths in the morning quiet.

This past Game. The Elites. _Mirage's sudden attempts to talk to her._ The wounds she'd gotten. The rookie mistakes when her team were downed. Lifeline's scrabble for cover before she was a kill confirmed. The smell of Bangalore's smoke. The sensation of the soldier's clenched fist on her thigh as she'd tried to help.

The buzz of the ring at her back, the heat from the last grenade blast. The race to the sands. The sound of the two rounds she'd put- _His eyes, the way he'd looked at her._ Two shots. The blood on his chest. Pathfinder's yell. The kick of her Peacekeeper in her hands. The grimace. _The flicker of defeat in his eyes, the whisper that she-_

The odds. Beaten, again.

_The training field._

Wraith pulled herself back into canteen, pushing a forkful of egg around before spearing it. It was indeed unusual, his sudden abundance in her vicinity. True, when he'd first earned a name for himself he'd tried fairly hard to get others to engage with him. But he'd learned, or at least she'd thought he had, that she preferred to be left alone.

This new change was irritating. She mulled it over with suspicion as she finished eating. The coffee was cooling by the time she drained it, and the room was starting to see a little more life. As she was leaving she passed Bloodhound, looking better rested than they had since before the Game. She smiled a hello.

"Dee dawn light finds you."

"Good Morning, Bloodhound."

A small smile and a nod. More colour in the cheeks. Pale, but there.

"Feeling any better?"

She didn't really intend to ask, but she had. Bloodhound paused to turn back, meeting her eyes and smiling more firmly.

"Much. I vas unfortunate not to participate," they answered her, smile growing more, "but I vas vatching. You tracked well. You grasped your victory before de Gods."

"I got lucky, at points." she answered, and not in false modesty. She _had_ met with some luck that game.

Bloodhound twisted their lips.

"Der is always an element of luck."

Wraith smiled.

"If you'd been hunting me, I wouldn't have had much chance." she answered honestly.

Bloodhound laughed, mirth glowing in their face.

"Den fate vas on your side."

With that they turned, nodding again to her before heading to the food. Wraith slipped out of the door and headed toward the Library with a faint smile. She'd get some research done today. Now that she was a touch calmer.

The days blended together as she settled back into the quiet. The GamesHub got busy at the weekend, not so busy as it would be for her Games, with so many Elites, but a rise in noise that would dip again in a couple days when their Game was done.

Mirage had vanished by then, Dr. Caustic and Octane too. If Bloodhound was still around, they were off somewhere Wraith didn't go. She spied Pathfinder in the halls or streets sometimes, trading greetings and wincing at his constantly bright tone, perpetually cheerful even at dusk when she was thinking of rooftops and starlight.

It took no time at all for her Games to come round again, for her name to be marked on the applicants sheets just as soon as it could be.

Things started heating up, returning heroes, new faces, people from the last Game hanging on with the hope to catch a glimpse of those who dominated the top of the food chain.

Wraith had fewer meals alone, suffered Lifeline's hug in silence, listened as she and Bangalore talked of what they'd achieved in their respective lives since she'd last seen them. Life paced on.

The day before the Games was upon them, and Wraith had no decided team. Lifeline had extended her an invitation, as she'd foreseen, but Wraith rarely chose her squad mates, and had never done so twice in succession.

She'd find out in the morning who she was to work with. It was part of the battle. It kept her sharp, the need to think on her feet and adapt.

It wouldn't be an impossible assertion, if anyone were to make it, to say that Wraith also enjoyed the unknown just a little bit.

Waiting in the hangar for her PDA to light, Wraith had settled in a spot far to one side with enough room to breathe. The other Legends left her alone, and none of the new faces were foolish enough to encroach.

Most of the other Legends were there, and all the Elites. A big Game it was to be. Wraith was braced by the thought. Her mind was sharp and the Voices were peaceful, waiting. Battle would be fierce.

A soft beep alerted her and she stood as she rolled her thumb over the little screen to see the faces of her squad.

Gibraltar she recognised instantly, and nodded.

_Good. Competent cover, lethal zoning._

The second face was a little less familiar, but Wraith had seen her around. She favoured shotguns from what little Wraith had seen so far, and toyed with poison balloons, making for some real zoning potential on her part too.

Wraith smiled as she raised her head to survey the crowd and slipped into it to make her presence known.

Her senses warmed into alert. She would pass Jumpmaster to Gib, and let the defender lead them.


	9. Chapter 9

_Chapter Nine_

Wraith studied the faraway landscape, taking as much note as she could of where might be getting populated fast, judging by the directions those who'd jumped before them were headed in. Gibraltar guided them at a steady glide, maybe considering the swampy lowlands in the near distance.

I_t might throw off enough people long enough._

With her title of Champion, it was a fair bet that some of the others would be trying to think like her to get the jump on her squad. If they played by Gibraltar's whim, it could buy the three of them some valuable looting time.

Laika, the third member of their squad, was quiet and amiable about being lead, and Wraith hoped that would continue. Not purely for the sake of the sway she and Gibraltar had as Elites, but also because harmony was key in any Games.

"Team pretty close on the incline."

As they approached the ground, she turned her head at the JumpMaster's comment, taking note.

"Raid the huts first, or make for the Dam?"

He considered for a moment, until they were almost ready to land.

"Huts." he answered confidently, "Too far out to be busy, we'll swing into Dam with gear."

Wraith nodded, and as soon as her toes touched dirt she was running. The spread in Swamps left them separated and vulnerable unless they trawled each building together, gathering gear at a slower pace. But there was so much potential. While not the safest choice, right on the Ring edge and so open to anyone on the higher ground nearby, she agreed it was a good choice.

She didn't pause to ask where they were going, simply racing past buildings till she was nearer the far side, and diving into the first of the biggest structures near her.

They worked in methodical silence, Laika dropping a couple poison traps just in case anyone wandered through the long way later. They met in the middle, Laika scaling the trees to open the often-profitable bins, tossing down a decent sniper scope and a health kit, and trading out her blue helmet for a purple. Gib motioned for Wraith to take the old one, keeping an eye on the ridges with his rather lucky find.

Triple Take, now fully kitted. What a stroke of the best kind of luck. Wraith shouldered her R-99 as she strapped the headgear on, and they were pretty much done with the area. Time to move for better ground with time to spare.

"Dam." their defender called, and both women set off after him.

As they passed back through the water, Laika scooped up a trap and re-pocketed it.

They'd passed through Dam and into Repulsor before coming across the team they'd seen land nearby. Dawdling got them wiped fairly quickly, with only one guy really putting up a fight. Wraith tossed Laika a syringe as they quickly stripped any use from the loot, eyes and ears open for people following the gunfire.

Six teams were gone already, and they weren't even finished in Repulsor before the counter hit thirteen. Thirteen teams left, already. The Ring hissed in the distance, beginning to encroach on the very edges of the swamps, and the three of them moved up.

"I reckon it's gonna end on Bunker." Laika spoke up, her tone half-amused, "I betcha my Phoenix Kit."

Gibraltar laughed good-naturedly. Despite them all knowing he'd have little opportunity to use it if they made it that far, (if she even still had it by then,) he agreed.

"You got a deal."

Wraith was watching the land below their new perch on the overhang by the river when a gunshot crackled not too far to their right. Ducking closer to the concrete, she settled her scope against one eye.

"Octane." she relayed as a second, third, fourth cut the air, sweeping her gaze over what she could see of his squad. Two new bloods, left uncomfortably far behind him, were racing to his position, exposed in the water.

She held her fire, searching for who was shooting at him.

"He's left his squad in the water." Laika breathed, "Fuck sake."

Wraith made no comment, but it was a sentiment she shared. She'd briefly wondered how she'd handle being assigned to him, when she'd read his name on the sign up sheet. He'd waited the extra week to get in a bigger game, an eventuality most had seen coming.

"Behind the big boulder." she responded, finally spotting the mid-tier who was shooting at the newest Elite.

"Behind the building too," Gib agreed, and Wraith confirmed with an easy glance.

"Last one's inside!" Laika hissed, "Upstairs."

Wraith checked on reflex, but couldn't confirm. With the door closed, the best she'd see if someone was there would be the brief flicked of shadow passing behind the glass.

"You see a face?"

"No," Laika admitted, sounding less sure, "but I'm pretty sure…"

Two seconds later, someone had caught Octane's exposed teammates in the back, sending both face-first under the water. One came back up, red swiftly pooling around her, and scrambled for the shore, throwing herself under the stilts of another building.

"Incoming from Market."

Before she could get a good look herself, a plume of white smoke burst across the area, and heralding to them all who it was.

"Shit." was all Laika had to say.

"Means Lifeline's nearby."

Gibraltar hummed an affirmative, and Wraith opened her mouth to ask if he wanted to start a move. If the skirmish that as about to go down took it's time, the three of them would be hemmed by the Ring about to score through Dam. It was gonna cut off-

"Water Treatment. We're getting sandwiched here."

_Shit_.

Wraith clenched her hand against the barrel of her gun, feeling the responsive crackled of heat-pain down her spine.

"We should move," she said, "sooner rather than later."

She was answered with two nods as the three of them watched the team racing towards them from the left, obviously also anticipating it being cut off. They were still unseen, but in a bad position should that change as the Ring moved.

Wraith wriggled back from the edge and steeled herself with a breath, already dreading it as she found her self a reference point almost as far away as she could take it.

"We're gonna come out exposed." she bit out through clenched teeth, "Right between the rock faces. I say we head for the tower next to Market."

"Agreed." nodded the defender.

Laika said nothing, but didn't need to. She'd follow.

Without further stalling, Wraith opened the air before her and threw herself into the seam, hurtling from the overhang and across the water. When she re-entered the hot air of the arena she gasped a full breath, alerting her squad. The burn of holding the portal was manageable, but draining. She forced herself to sprint for the cover of the structure to the right. The second she felt the tug that they were through, she released it.

The counter pinged. Two more teams down. Ping. Three.

"Ten left." Laika coughed, catching her breath as they crammed against the tall structure, Wraith already eying Market through her scope despite how she herself was still heaving.

"We should skip Market, go straight through Skull Town."

Wraith lowered her scope and turned to eye their defender.

"You sure? Doors are closed on this side, and there's something glinting through that fencing."

"We're good." he responded, meeting her eye, "Let's save some time, block right toward Bunker, just to be sure."

His eyes slid to Laika, who snorted a laugh.

"Sounds good."

Ping. Nine squads.

Wraith nodded. Their gear wasn't awful, and a good position further in would be helpful.


	10. Chapter 10

_Chapter Ten_

Wraith moved swiftly through the inter-connecting single-floor buildings, picking occasionally at what was lying around. It was clear someone had been through some of the rooms already, but their inefficient search had missed some good loot.

"Laika, you need another Protein bar?"

"I'm good." was the instant response, not that Wraith had really expected much else.

At the rate people were dropping, they could be done by dinner. She left the bar on a bench, rifling through some loose ammo. A couple shotgun shells for Laika, a lucky Energy clip for Gib. Unlucky for her, Light ammo was looking scarce.

_Incoming._

Her head whipped round, expecting the open window to fall shadowed, but nothing moved.

Where?

The voices didn't answer. Her blood sparked to life as she readied for a fight.

"Guys? We might not be alone."

"Roger." came Gibraltar's steady response.

Wraith stayed where she was, crouched by the door, for a further few seconds before easing it open. As she did, she caught sight of someone disappearing into the taller building across the way.

"Laika, on your six."

When there wasn't a response, Wraith took stock of the area before darting across the open street and sliding under the corrugated shutter. As she braced herself on the laminated flooring and turned down the hallway, she was caught by surprise to see Mirage standing in the hallway inspecting his gun. So surprised, in fact, that before she realised he'd made no move to look her way despite the noise she'd made, she fired two rounds.

He shattered on impact, and she realised her mistake.

"Fuck."

"Trickster's in the area," she relayed through her comms as she braced herself beside a door, "He knows where I am."

"If Path's still up, that could be trouble. I'm on my way down."

Wraith could hear the sounds of their defender dropping onto the metal walkway above her head, but the comm-line stayed quiet.

"Laika, what's your position? We might have a fight going down."

A second of crackled static before the response came through, low and quiet.

"I'm pinned behind one of those bins, out in the open?"

"Fuck." she swore, checking the view outside the door again, "You got eyes?"

A wry chuckle, devoid of humour.

"Bangalore heading from Market direction," Wraith's pulse kicked up a notch, "she's got a friendly on her tail."

"Great."

Chances were that was Lifeline, and not a fight Wraith wanted to have out here, where the soldier's smoke could flood the whole street and let her flank unseen through the maze of low buildings.

"Can confirm the Trickster's in the area," Gibraltar's easy calm filled their ears, "and he's got company."

Wraith needed to move, and fast. The narrow hallway between the doors left her zero cover if she got sandwiched. Checking the doorway one more time, she slipped out and ran in the direction of their third.

As she made the corner and hopped the low fence, she was just in time to meet an opponent, putting half a clip into his chest as she dove for the bin beside Laika's. She dragged out her P2020 and took aim at his prone form, confirming just in time to narrowly miss being shot by his squad mate, who'd appeared on the low roof behind him. Wraith hit the sand, curling low and small as she refilled her rifle.

"Get ready to go, we got our backs exposed here." she called, and Laika nodded.

As she burst from one side and started firing at the high target, Laika darted the opposite way. Ducking from Wraith's fire gave their attacker a better line of sight and he took the shot faster than Wraith anticipated.

The bullet bit into Laika's clavicle, sending her sprawling on the sand, and exposed.

"Gib!" Wraith yelled, firing again, keeping her bursts short in the hopes of keeping him pinned.

She filtered out the pained screaming automatically, trying to get to their fallen teammate to draw fire her own way.

"On that rooftop here,", she called over the bloody yells, He's got cover behind the dish!"

Just as she reached their now-quiet teammate, a familiar round disk was hurled their way. The defender bubble hit its mark, ballooning into a humming shell, and easily deflecting new fire.

_She's here. Watch out!_

Not a moment later, there came a whistling, and Wraith watched as Bangalore's zoning tech seeded themselves into the ground like two dozen crash-landing space rockets.

Everything got a little more frantic from there. She got Laika back on her feet and dragged open the air, yanking the disoriented woman with her through the buildings to an empty, but not ideal, position.

"If you're gonna heal," Gib called out from his new perch, securing the kill of Laika's attacker, "you better be quick."

The air was full of dust and burnt sand as the barrage of rockets exploded in waves. What had been relatively quiet air only five minutes ago was now chaos. It seemed all the incoming parties had arrived at once, and there was no end in the gunfire.

A door at the end of the hall opened and Wraith readied her gun, hitting her mark as soon as they rounded the corner. Lifeline, for that's who it was, fell back around the bend, and Wraith heard her scrabbling as she stalked the corner herself. She was aware of Laika's poison balloons exploding outside the door where her squad mate was catching her breath, but her focus was on the Medic shooting at the corner she was trying to make.

It was far too long, between them, trading fire each time Wraith spun herself into line of sight and out again, a fight that would have been much more deadly were the Medic not already almost without shields. When Lifeline was down for good, Wraith fell back against the other woman's corner, retrieving the attachment of the Doc bot left behind, and swallowing the pain as she waited for the killers to kick in.

She wrapped a bandage hastily around the worst bleeder on her arm, and ignored the rest, peering around the corner only to find that Laika hadn't moved from where she'd slid down the corner wall, holding her throat and looking pale.

"Laika! get that syringe in!"

The woman looked at her, blood splattered across the icy white of her face, and then stared drunkenly at the needle in her hand as though seeing it for the first time. Wraith noticed the new hole in her abdomen, the pool of blood seeping around her like a pond around a swan.

"What the-"

_You're in their sights!_

Wraith whirled to find the familiar shape of an MRVN unit taking aim from the open door behind her, and the first shell sank through her upper chest as she spun out of sight.

_Pathfinder. Pathfinder must have- Didn't confirm?_

And then four things happened instantaneously.

A shot rang out from her right and she knew as she turned what it was. Bangalore had taken the final shot. Laika's banner pinged loudly to register her death, making Wraith's chest clench and burn at losing a squadmate. As the soldier stepped into the room, a purple splash erupted from the floor and coated her face, causing her to yell out as the poison burned her skin. Pathfinder rounded the corner, his next shot missing Wraith as she dropped herself to the floor.

And for a fifth thing, Wraith fell into the seam of the Void and stumbled out the other side on the high rooftop walkway, falling to her knees and almost writhing as the waves of agony caught up with her.

_Keep moving, don't stop!_

With too much speed, she raced for the medkit in her rucksack, destroying her own organisation system, her fingers rubber and uncoordinated as her vision started swimming. She could hear everything going down, The air was thick and heavy with screams and comm-calls and the smell of burning and smoke. Breathing made her feel like she was underwater, and she choked most of it back out.

It burned her tongue with the taste of old coins.

The fast-acting painkillers were a blessing, but she'd lost a lot of blood even as the coagulants did their work. While she lay there, head full of screaming wasps and the world spinning on a tilt, she forced her hands to move, streaking her R-99 with her own blood as she reloaded.

Ping. Seven squads. Ping. Six Squads. Ping. Five.  
Ping. Four.

Wraith raised her head to see the Ring wall in the distance, as it began to eat the sand between them and Thunderdome. In mere seconds, half of Skull Town was going to be swallowed by it, herself included if she didn't get moving.

"Gib?" it came out garbled and cracked, and she spat out a mouthful of blood before trying again.

"Get out, I'll follow. But be careful, not everybody stayed to fight."

The shakiness of her balance eased as she forced herself to move, rifle feeling heavy in her hands for a time. She made the drop right off the rooftop because it was quicker, the ground still thumping a shock up her legs even with her jump gear slowing the fall.

She started running for the pass, feeling the pain slipping away with the steady stride, and her head clearing as everything eased _just_ enough to function better. She'd make the pass and scale the ridge, just to see what was-

_Line of sight!_

She threw herself into a zig, darting left and peering over her shoulder. His grin was wild as he raced, jamming a stimulant into one leg and loosing a mad holler that was painted with laughter.

_Octane?_

She'd figured him dead with his squad ages ago. The woman under the house had had no chance. That sneaky fucker.

She turned back towards the pass, pushing herself a little more, aware now of how easily she could lose her lead on him. The sound of something heavy hitting the sands behind her gave her little warning for him sailing over her head. She veered, and skidded to a stop, diving for cover behind a loose boulder as he landed, twirled, and started shooting.


	11. Chapter 11

_Chapter Eleven_

The Games weren't a place in which you could rely on having the chance to really process your situation. You learned to work in a different way, if you were to survive. Wraith had, in her beginning, slipped into the battle mindset like she was born for it. Like she was made for it. She was a creature of instinct, and that was a large part of her success. Her acceptance of kill or be killed, and her gut.

Her gut, and the Voices.

_Behind you!_

Wraith ran, sidestepping into the Void as she did, Octane's fire skating the air around her as though dancing on ice. The burn licked up her spine, and when it edged into just a little too much, she let go, breathing the hot air of the dying afternoon.

She dropped into a slide, twisting around a new rock and letting her pistol bark at the speedster she'd passed. Not far behind him, Bangalore was racing, her Flatline levelling even as Wraith stole a glance.

When her P2020 bit into Octane's shoulder he loosed another mad laugh, his face alight with adrenaline and glee, and shook it off.

"You better do better, Mira!"

She ducked his shot, the encroaching sound of Flatline fire rocketing up the urge to leave this less than ideal spot. She dropped and rolled further left, putting Octane between herself and the other she could hear, her fire only grazing his leg as he bounced from one side to the other like a kid hopped up on sugar.

His laugh was crazy, the gleam in his eyes almost deranged.

What worried Wraith most was that there was a part of her inside, a part she tried to keep in check, that heard his call and sang back.

She growled, trading more fire, feeling the heat flash of a graze on her arm chunking her armour. The others were getting close enough to change things now, but she couldn't spare the glance as she and Octane danced, the boulder between them.

Just behind him, a familiar impact. Clouds of white obscured everything, even Octane becoming but a shadow, and part of Wraith began to panic.

_Shit!_

As she turned to run, another object whistled through the air and landed mere feet from her toes.

The bubble crackled into life, sparkling with blue light as it burst into position, and she loosed a whoop in thanks as she dove for its safety, hearing the smatter of fire it deflected, right on her heel.

"The pass!" she yelled, knowing he was there, somewhere, and his response had her gaze shooting up.

"You all look like ants down there!"

He stood silhouetted in the early evening sun above her. His deep belly laugh was pleasant, and out of place, and with the complicated thread of battled seeded deep in her soul, Wraith chuckled with him.

"You sly sonfabitch."

Zipline, her brain supplied, for it was the best answer for how he'd gotten there, left behind by Pathfinder, no doubt. She didn't need to tell him to be careful.

Leaving the bubble she swept right, looking.

_There_.

At the far end, the gleaming pole with the unmissable yellow line. She raced. Behind her, at the mouth of the pass, she heard it, and grinned.

The earth shook with the barrage, Gibraltar's laugh a dead giveaway, were she not already able to tell the difference.

"Nice work!" she called, over the crashing, and his laugh only grew louder.

She threw her hand out for the handle of the zipline that waited for her, rising instantly. She raced along the ridge, her rifle ready and eager in her hands. The air was a blanket of smoke and dust and sand, as the remaining Legends were forced into fighting there, in the pass.

Ping.

Her ears were full of their voices but she took aim, crouched beside her squadmate as he too began firing.

Grenades shook the rock, the sizzle of arcstars causing pure chaos. It didn't take long for their position to be given away, and fire rained up. Wraith was knocked by the force of a sniper shot that broke her armour and she fell backwards out of her crouch, cracking her head hard against the uneven rock.

"_Fuck_." she spat, scrabbling to her feet again, registering the buzz of Gibraltar's arm shield as he stepped in front of her just in case, never ceasing his fire.

Ping.

She reloaded, ignoring the stinging at the base of her skull and the fact she was down to just one Light clip. She didn't have time to fuck around with a shield cell. This had to end soon, or she was in trouble. As she slid back into position beside him she opened her mouth, but two things hit her ears at once.

The sound of a body on a Zipline.

_Get down!_

The shot whizzed past her so close she heard the air parting, and hit her defender so close to her head that the bloodspray rained down on her. Her pulse became a constant thrum in her chest as death rose its head to look at her.

"Six!" she hollered, already taking down one of the flanking opposition, through the hologram he threw up too late.

_Empty._

"Out!" she cried, reaching for her pistol.

Another shot, and a heavy thump behind her.

"Wraith!"

He needn't have. She was there in a heartbeat, and the borrowed Prowler barked in her hands as she claimed the title of Kill Leader. The ringing cry of the Victory music forced all other sound aside. She dropped the rifle in the sand at her feet and turned to the defender, reaching out a hand.

He took it with a low chuckle and she pulled his bulky frame upright, careful of the busted wing he cradled.

"Good work." he told her with his familiar beaming grin, as the little ship that would take them back to the MedStation swooped down to land.

"Likewise," she managed a triumphant smile, "Congratulations."

They stepped onto the ship, drenched in sweat and blood, pleasantly worn from battle and fuelled by their success.

The Medic on board chattered about their game as he removed shrapnel and such from Gibraltar's chest, bound it neatly and moved to the arm, relaying that he'd have the waiting med team prescribe him some painkillers and antibiotics against possible infection. Despite being practically unscathed (in her opinion) since using her MedKit in SkullTown, Wraith would be taken to get checked over too. The graze on her neck, despite having soaked her in her own blood as she was now told, was shallow enough that she was handed a gauze patch to press against it in the meantime.

"Not letting go of that title, I see."

Wraith dredged another thin smile up for the Medic.

"I don't plan to, no." she answered plainly.

Even though he held his smile as he laughed, Wraith could see in his eyes that fear of her that seemed to live in everyone. The edge she put them on. While it maybe should have been something she hated, _was_ something she had once tried to hate, it made keeping her distance easier.

Her check-in at the MedStation was routine and swift, and she was released a lot faster than her teammate. With neither needing full surgery, they'd been taken to one of the low-prep open rooms. As she slid off her bed she gave Gibraltar a small wave. He pulled a mock grimace and chuckled, and Wraith left the room with humour on her face. They had enough Winners footage of her by now for their Promos, and though they didn't love her disappearing right after a Game, they'd long since stopped chasing her down.

It was still a while before he found her, not that she'd expected to be found. She'd retired into one of the rec rooms that saw less foot traffic, - knowing the bigger ones would be filling with preparation for a possible showing tonight, - curling on the plush seating by a window. She looked up in surprise as she heard him enter, the smile that was forming on her lips in greeting fading almost as fast as she took in his expression.

"Gib...?"

He looked at her with eyes that were hardened, and weak underneath. Her stomach clenched. Typically calm and deep like the ocean, the defender looked… wrecked. He was carrying something heavy in his shoulders, something that made a cold premonition coil in her stomach.

"What it is?" she whispered, feeling out of her depth and confused, worried about the air he'd brought into the room with him, the unfamiliar pain in his eyes.

"Laika."

Wraith knew, even as he started to pick at the words, what he was saying. A horrible, unexpected hole opened in her gut, the edges sharp with teeth as she processed it. The voices whispered it to her again and again, and did so still long after he was gone, leaving her alone in the corner of the room with only the windows letting in the fading evening light.

_Dead._

_Dead._

_Dead._

An unfamiliar and unhappy sensation squirmed around her muscles and forced her to move. Staying still burned. She needed… She needed _out_.

~.~

"You okay?"

Wraith's gaze left the inky sky to find Mirage walking towards her. She'd been a little lost in thought, and hadn't even realised she wasn't alone. Her gut tightened. He wasn't someone she wanted to be around right now. She turned back to the darkened sky, trying to rediscover the feeling of peace that the night had been giving her, and snorted harshly at the question.

"They gave me the all clear. I've had worse than a scrape."

He was quiet until he reached her side, standing close enough that she was aware of the heat he was carrying with him from the hub. He was watching her. She ignored it, focusing on her breathing, on calming the turmoil she was trying not to feel. On brushing aside the irritation his presence was waking in her.

"And you? Given yourself the all clear?"

She flinched, glancing sharply back without meaning to. For a moment he looked at her with what seemed awfully like concern in his whiskey eyes. Then he looked away, across the sleepy quiet of the streets. She'd settled on a dune overseeing the market area, to better see the sky. Her skin started prickling. Why did he have to come here? Why couldn't she be left alone to…

_To what? To wallow in guilt?_

_To mourn?_

She scowled and shook the Voices from her head. Not that that ever worked.

"Why are you here?" she snapped instead.

He didn't answer for a while, and they sat in an uncomfortable kind of silence as she tried again to let the peace of the night clear her head.

"Wasn't your fault, you know."

She bit back a denial, unwilling to admit that was what she thought. She carefully considered her next words.

"Wasn't anybody's," curt, cutting, "risk of the arena."

She stood abruptly, dusting the traces of sand from her jeans, before heading back down towards the towering compound.


	12. Chapter 12

_Chapter Twelve_

As they always did, the days passed. Wraith spent them alone, keeping strange hours and taking solace in the quiet nights, barely a shadow as she stalked the halls, the streets, roamed far enough into the empty forestry one night that she wasn't home till dinnertime the next day. She stayed away from people, away from the harsh scraping of voices in her ears. And all the while, processing.

Wraith had learned a long time ago that there was no room for what ifs, if she were to keep surviving. There was no changing her past. And there was no changing the pasts of others. She drank, in the quiet, to numb the ache and the guilt and the feeling of failure. She watched the skies, thinking of other planets and other pasts, and of nothing at all.

Eventually, as she'd known she would have to, she re-entered the life of the compound. She attended mealtimes. She sat alone, once in a comfortable silence with Bloodhound, and she moved forward.

Three days before her next eligible Game found Wraith in the canteen at lunchtime, reluctantly accepting that it'd soon be getting busy with pre-Game buzz and she could hide no longer. Of course, that didn't mean she was quite prepared for the intrusion that came all too soon.

"Haven't seen much of you, lately."

When she looked up, she couldn't stop herself from reading everything on his face. He didn't need to mention the lingering elephant in the room for her to see it there. She briefly wondered why he cared. She wished he wouldn't.

"I've been around." she answered, barely above a whisper.

She was unable to muster anything louder, or even the energy to try. It was draining her enough to be around people right then, even though the canteen was practically empty still. For a moment he let that settle, standing behind her as she walked the length of the food displays, already sure she didn't want any of it, that she'd order something lighter instead.

"Signed up for this next one?"

How was it, that he had such a knack for asking the questions she didn't want him to?

"Not yet."

"But you're going to, right?"

She kept her quiet. It was awkward, for a while, as he followed her path. She couldn't even stop him, for it was a queue, and he had as much right and reason to be there as she.

"I signed up this morning. Should've when I got in yesterday, but I figured they'd save me a place, huh?" he chuckled.

Wraith tipped her head a touch to one side. There it was, that urge to answer that was growing so familiar.

"I imagine it'd be useful to have someone bribed, for a situation like that."

Mirage's laugh was bright and he didn't appear insulted in the slightest at her insinuation.

"Who needs bribery when you've got a face like mine?" he winked, and only chuckled again when she rolled her eyes, "What can I say? It's a talent, making them swoon."

Another beat of quiet. Wraith didn't dare to hope it'd last, but enjoyed in anyway. There were only two low-tier legends in front of her, and then she'd be able to order, and escape to her room to eat in peace. It was just far too tiring to be around others, yet. She had to get her head in gear for the next Game, only days away.

Mirage changed tact again, falling from his boisterous tone once more.

"Signing on solo, in classic Wraith style?"

She skirted the bait, and only nodded. From what she could see out of the corner of her eye, he didn't look surprised.

"Me and Path are just a two again."

Wraith hummed, the queue dwindling one more. She was next, then she could get out. Only a few more minutes, and she could retreat to the gentle quiet of her room, and the embrace of her pillows and blanket.

"Hey, maybe we'll even beat you this time." he laughed, and she shot him a raised eyebrow in amusement before she'd meant to engage.

His coffee eyes were bright and eager on her, and so she dredged up a little energy she was sure she'd regret expending on a conversation with him.

"Still each other's shadows?"

Though her tone was light and without barb, she could see him shift a little.

"You've probably been the slowest to learn that if if you indulge him, he'll never leave."

She wasn't sure why she'd said that, watching the way he turned almost a little sheepish for a second, because she didn't actually believe he put up with the robot's company out of pity, like some of the others might. And it wasn't like her, to put down one of the others.

"I like him." Mirage shrugged with a grin, glancing sideways at her, "Sure, he's a little odd and sometimes his programming lets him down with some social stuff, but he's fun and a _really_ good fighter."

When she didn't respond, he shrugged easily again and looked away.

"He makes good calls in the ring. So much positive energy. We fight well together."

"And he puts up with your yakkin'." added an amused voice from behind them, "That robot has ears of _steel_."

When Wraith turned, Lifeline was rolling her eyes at her companion.

"Jus' cause you ain' one for small talk." the medic laughed.

Bangalore smiled faintly, both at her, and in greeting Wraith.

"I can do small talk just fine." she answered in good nature, "What he does is something else entirely."

At that, Wraith couldn't help the humour that crossed her face. Mirage, as always, simply chuckled and shrugged the taunt off.

"I can't help it if I have a personality that extends beyond playing soldiers." he grinned, only laughing when both women pulled faces.

"She jus' can' handle your charm, is tha' it?" Lifeline giggled.

Mirage's grinned only widened as he leaned back against the countertop. His eyes danced with humour.

"You said it, not me." he quipped.

"Uh huh." the solder snorted.

Mirage shrugged in amusement, and was answered by Lifeline's warm laugh.

"Welcome back." Wraith greeted.

In return, Bangalore grinned, and Lifeline threw an arm over Wraith's shoulders to squeeze her in a brief sideways hug. Wraith did her best to fight the need to shirk the contact, and just bit her tongue until Lifeline eventually backed up again.

_You're next_.

Wraith turned as the person in front of her was leaving, stepping gratefully into the vacant space at the counter.

"Scrambled eggs, please."

The woman behind the counter made no show that Wraith had ordered unusually, despite breakfast having been over hours before. It was something Wraith had often appreciated about the canteen since the big overhaul the year before, when the Games started really growing and the facilities got upgraded. They gave her what she ordered, no matter the time of day, and she was grateful.

"Toast?" she was asked, when it was rung through, and she said yes even though she didn't want to, knowing that maybe she should try to eat more substantially for the next few days.

As she stepped aside to wait, Mirage and the others dropped their hot food orders in too, moving to stand with her instead of seeking out seats, and Wraith felt her stomach drop a little. They were going to expect her to join them, she just knew it.

"Late night?"

Bangalore's tone was loud and brusque as always, and Wraith hid her wince as best she could as the sound assaulted her once more. She tipped her head and lifted her shoulders a fraction.

"Sort of."

That was code for _Nightmares_. Nobody ever spoke about them, but everybody understood them. Wraith would bet hers were worse than most, of course, except she wouldn't bet at all because that would require admitting a weakness, and closing a distance she quite liked keeping them at.

"We'll get a booth," Lifeline announced brightly when she popped up beside them, eyeing Wraith, "I told em to just send your eggs over when they're ready."

Wraith nodded, dying a little inside, and followed Lifeline dutifully with a closed mouth, bidding a silent goodbye to her quiet plans.


	13. Chapter 13

_Chapter Thirteen_

The number of people around her was making her feel queasy, even though she'd still managed to slide into the booth last, to avoid being blocked in by the others. It wasn't particularly common practice for Mirage to join the three of them, but they seemed comfortable enough in each other's company by now. They made easy conversation about nothing, a strange politeness to Wraith, until Lifeline chuckled at something Mirage had said and threw a look Wraith's way.

"What about you, Wraith? Don' feel like joinin' us on Monday?"

She looked up from her disappointingly still-full plate, and dredged up a weak smile as she shook her head.

"Thanks," she murmured, "but I'll be okay solo-queuing this time."

Lifeline rolled her eyes with an amiable chuckle.

"Suitcha self."

"You know, Ajay and I do better together, after this long." Bangalore commented, "You find a rhythm."

"I can vouch for that." Mirage agreed, taking a bite of his own breakfast - a combination of far too many foods crushed between two slices of bread - and talking with his mouth full, "Me and Pathfinder have a _killer_ rhythm."

Bangalore leaned away from him as he sprayed crumbs over the table, and Lifeline wrinkled her nose in a brand of disgusted amusement.

Wraith gave a subtle shrug, looking back at her own plate and considering her clearly inferior appetite.

"I enjoy not knowing. It's part of the challenge." she said, which was only partially true, and forced herself to lift a triangle of toast and take a bite.

"You've teamed before." Mirage pointed out helpfully, still-full mouth making Bangalore and Lifeline make disapproving noises.

"Sometimes."

"Well, what about teaming this time? With me and Path?"

"I'm fine, thanks." she repeated, stirring her eggs - cold by now - around the plate again as though for inspiration.

"I don't blame ya." the soldier chuckled, knocking Mirage playfully with an elbow, "It's like babysitting."

Lifeline laughed, and Mirage spluttered in such outrage that he coughed up crumbs all over the table, making Bangalore laugh in disgust and scoot away from him while she did. Their laughter hurt Wraith's head. She wished she'd been earlier getting lunch, or they'd been later. She wished for the peace and quiet of her room. The others were bickering, Bangalore and Mirage mostly, while Lifeline only looked on, amused.

Wraith sipped from her coffee - thankfully safe from the spray of Mirage's breakfast sandwich - and willed away the tickling ache in the back of her skull. An oncoming migraine was _just_ what she needed right now.

"Hey Bloodhound!"

Wraith winced, wishing she too could shuffle further away from him as he hollered. She looked over to find the recipient of his eager wave, raising a hand of their own in acknowledgment after having just stepped into the room.

"What's wrong with us?" he asked, raising his eyebrows for added dramatic effect.

Wraith didn't have the energy for his antics today, not that it stopped him. He leaned towards her conspiratorially, glancing around as though to check they weren't being overheard.

"Is it Path? It's Path isn't it?" he slumped in his seat and threw an arm over his eyes in a bad imitation of an actress from an ancient movie, "Oh woe, that robot scares away all the ladies."

Lifeline snorted.

"Cause ya havin' _such_ bad luck witha _ladies_." she chuckled, and Mirage lifted the arm from his face a few inches to wink at her.

"Thank you, thank you, It's a gift, what can I say?" he grinned, and seemed not to hear the collective groan from both soldier and medic.

"Hiya, Bloodhound!"

It was hard to believe he could be as quiet as she'd seem him be, recently. Bangalore was right. He was like a kid.

"It's not about you or Pathfinder." she answered Mirage, glancing up to nod a welcome to the Elite joining them at the table.

"Well, then prove it." Mirage shrugged with a wicked grin.

Wraith rolled her eyes tiredly.

"I don't think that's the attitude to have, picking a squad." she said, her patience wearing thin.

She just wanted to go back to bed already. She wanted the darkness, the soothing calm of the shadows of the familiar room.

"You need to lighten up a little." Mirage chuckled, his face bright and his eyes glinting, "Path and me could show you how to have some _fun_."

"What? What?" he feigned confusion when the three women groaned again.

"You should choose vit yor instincts." Bloodhound hummed quietly, having watched the exchange in silence, and looking up from their food, "Yor spirit vill tell if someone is a good pick."

The table fell quiet at their words, and Wraith drank her coffee in the quiet, grateful. The canteen was getting busier, the lunch rush wouldn't be long in coming and Wraith wanted to be gone by then, at least. It was only several minutes of thoughtfulness before it was inevitably broken. Mirage reached for his own mug, raising one shoulder up to his ear, palm face up between them.

"All I'm saying," he took a sip, "is give us a try. Couldn't hurt."

Wraith huffed gently through her nose, fingers curled round her own mug at her lips as though holding a shield. When she glanced at him, he raised an eyebrow, and Wraith found she didn't have a comeback properly formed.

Bangalore gave a short, teasing laugh.

"Couldn't hurt." she repeated, "Now _that's_ a good one."

Lifeline laughed as Mirage scowled and Bangalore grinned. Bloodhound smiled faintly, eating quietly with nothing more to input as the bickering began again. Wraith drained her mug, eager to leave. For all the air was welcoming and relaxed between them all, her head was starting to throb and she'd used up all her patience for close proximity.

As she stood to leave, Mirage's head swung her way, his expression almost startled for a second.

"Hey, wait-" he said, before realising how he'd sounded and leaning back against the back of the booth seat, "At least think about it?"

Maybe if she gave in for this one game, he'd leave her alone after? came a quiet, wistful thought. Wraith paused, deliberating. His eyes were watching her, his grin wide and eager, but his self-assured confidence was missing, she realised.

Maybe it was that, that caved her, the notion that he was taking the idea seriously. Maybe it really was just the faint hope that he'd leave her alone afterwards. He'd been a close opponent for several Games by now, so it wasn't as though he and Pathfinder weren't capable.

Whatever it was, Wraith found herself hesitantly agreeing, not quite believing it as she walked away.


	14. Chapter 14

_Chapter Fourteen_

Twenty-four hours. He'd waited till there was a single day between them and that Dropship and he chose _now_ to tell her.

And not even properly, not in any kind of serious manner. Oh no, because this was _Mirage_, the Trickster, and she'd been foolish to believe he was taking their team-up seriously.

Wraith was glaring at him, as he stood there with that infuriating shrug in his shoulders, looking like he didn't know why she was annoyed.

"It's not a big deal." he was saying, the words floating in the air between them as whispers flooded her ears, "I just don't feel like it tomorrow, that's all."

"I can't believe you." she snapped.

He met her eye, and though he weakly lifted his shoulders again as if it were an answer, there was fear flickering way back in his eyes. Wraith felt the sparks in her palms, and knew why.

"It doesn't have to be a big de-"

"You didn't tell me on purpose." she spat, growing more irritated, an angry, primal kind of fear prickling in her skull and drawing back her lips, "This is exactly why this was a bad idea."

"Wraith-"

"I can't believe I thought you were capable of screwing your head on."

"Hey! That's-"

"What kind of team are we supposed to be, if you don't even tell me things that I need to know?"

"_Wraith!_"

She drew her hand back, realising she'd stalked him into a corner without even knowing she'd done it. Surprise and an unsettling trepidation flickered in her system and she took a long step back to reinstate a space between them. The unstable, predatory feeling was doused. She reigned in her anger, realising that she was hot all over, her heart racing.

She felt like she'd just played her last Game yesterday. That familiar overwhelming nervous energy was leaking out of her. She scowled to cover the wave of embarrassment at her aggressive reaction. Mirage was watching her, his raised palms lowering, but he made no move to leave the wall she'd backed him against.

How were they going to work tomorrow, if _she_ didn't have her head on straight?

She shoved the thought aside. She did. She was ready. She was always ready. She was just caught off guard by his casual comment, angry that she hadn't been told. Pissed that _clearly_, he wasn't as dedicated to winning as he said he was, as dedicated as she had always been.

"Are you okay?" he eventually asked, looking awkward.

She realised she'd been staring at him, glaring was more accurate. She shook her head and looked away. She paced a looping circle away from him to release some of the uneasy tension.

"You should have told me. The minute I said yes, you should have told me."

He said nothing, but his eyes were waiting as he watched her. A Voice was growling. This was a terrible idea. The door opened, a bright blue robotic head peering around the frame.

"I was correct! Hello, friends!"

Wraith crossed her arms. Mirage rubbed his wrists, his usual easy grin springing onto his face.

"Hiya Path, we were just going to talk plans. care to join?"

Wraith gritted her teeth together to prevent herself from correcting him, irritation and frustration still bubbling under skin. The MRVN unit clapped his hands together, closing the door behind himself as he hurried in with a bouncing gait.

"Brilliant!" he replied, loud and bright as always, "A good plan is a dangerous weapon!"

Mirage chuckled, and it bothered Wraith almost as much that he sounded as though nothing had happened, than that she was reacting so irrationally to his badly-timed information. Beyond leaving them a man short if something went wrong, what _really_ was her problem?

Several Voices muttered at once, a garbled sound that only made her wish they'd shut up. A vague deja vu ghosted up her spine, gone before she could grasp at it for answers. Her mind raced for scenarios, solutions, back-up plans. This was so much less than ideal. Agreeing had been a bad idea, and this was only a sign that she should avoid them.

Her gut growled, hungry for the first time in three weeks, right when filling up with too heavy a meal could be a bad idea.

"What say you, Wraith?" Pathfinder's bright tone interrupted the frenzy in her head.

She glanced at him, realising they'd been talking and she'd missed it all. _This_ was why this was a bad idea. Dealing with this entire situation was messing with her fucking head.

"I don't think she was listening." Mirage smirked, raising an eyebrow her way.

The wariness was bright, though, and he couldn't cover it truly. She merely glared, barely able to restrain the urge to bare her teeth and spit at him for giving her this unhelpful myriad of frustrations.

"I am sensing tension." Pathfinder notified them, looking between them with a worried face on his screen, "I do hope we are still participating together tomorrow."

Wraith looked away, and clenched her fingers in her sleeves. Mirage was quiet, for a change, and it seemed they wanted her answer.

She hesitated. A large part of her wanted to run. Nullify their agreement and meet them on the field like usual. Risk the chances of being assigned to them anyway, and the bad blood they'd have to set aside if she did.

_The others would wonder, too._

Wraith groaned internally.

"It's too late now, to change that." she responded, belatedly, turning away proper, "We'll have to make do. You should rest."

She didn't stay to hear Pathfinder's delighted response. Making do was what she did, and she would just have to deal with Mirage's decision and hope that tomorrow would be a fortunate drop.

~.~

The noise level in the Bay was bordering painful, bouncing around in Wraith's skull like a thousand miniature pingpong balls. She'd lurked in her usual spot, waiting for this moment, arriving long before many of the others for the sake of not having to pass through the crowd. They left her alone, and she them, the back of her head tipped against the cool metal of the wall as she let her eyes lie shut against the brightness.

_Gotta get in the game, Wraith._

Shut up, she had this. Why wouldn't they just shut up?

_You're not ready._

_Maybe you should have taken this one off._

She didn't need to take one off. She'd put her last Game behind her. She couldn't change it, and it wasn't her fault. She could do this. She was born for this, it was what she was good at.

_You shouldn't have teamed._

_You're not ready._

She shook her head, and drew a long breath. She was. She _was_ ready. She had to be. This was what she did, this was who she was. It seemed she had enough faith in it that the Voices acquiesced.

_At least you know how they work._

They were right though, that she needed to get her head in gear fast. Better now than aboard the ship, too late to map a thorough plan. One that included the fact that one of her squad had decided to refuse a respawn.

_They're coming._

Reluctance was a weak cold in the pit of her belly. In that moment she wasn't sure how she had managed to be convinced. Her reasons, that had seemed to make so much sense just two days ago, now fell down like so many dominoes.

"Good Morning, friend!"

Wraith sighed and cracked an eye open, sourcing a pale smile from somewhere.

"Hi, Pathfinder."

"I'm _soooo_ ready for this." Mirage chimed in cockily, flashing her a grin that had more energy in it than she felt she had in her whole body, "I'm _extremely_ ready for this." his eager gaze moved from her to their third, and back, "Are we ready?"

"We're ready." she agreed, her voice sounding flat against Pathfinder's much more exuberant response.

Mirage babbled. Wraith had known this since his first appearances on their rosters, how anyone could _not_ know by now would be beyond her understanding. Pathfinder listened, and responded just as enthusiastically, as Wraith sank further into her own head, surer with every passing minute that the dread in her gut was telling her the future.


	15. Chapter 15

_Chapter Fifteen_

"Friends? We are far apart. Keep an eye on your maps!"

Wraith had been keeping tabs, but the robot was right. She spoke an affirmative, tugging open the lid of the bin in front of her, casting a disappointed eye across the meagre contents. She needed better gear. She spared a glance at her wrist, the tiny map showing the two healthy markers for her squad. Despite his own warning, Pathfinder was still picking through bins in Pit, and though it wasn't far as the crow could fly, there was very little cover between them if the did meet an ambush.

She followed the concrete, dragging open another bin. A pair of shield canisters. Single cells, but better than nothing and she had space. As she slotted them into her pack and reached for the zip, something in the air breathed a hiccup.

She heard the shots, head whipping up before his call even came through their comms. The ring counter was ticking down, and a foreboding chill struck her gut.

"Got a bad guy! Right in front of me!"

A red blip pinged on her watch.

Wraith started running.

"Guys?"

"I'm on it." she answered, darting in between the tightly packed slum buildings,as their third crackled in her ear.

"Another enemy team is attacking!" Pathfinder's voice relayed, his bright tone now one of concentration, "I'm afraid I am unable to help."

"Stay alive," she answered, scrambling over a low building in favour of losing time racing through it, "We'll route under Artillery to Cascades."

"Roger."

"I'm hit!" Mirage yelled, before cutting himself off with a yelp of pain.

Wraith heard the crack of his shields breaking over comms as she skid along the filthy water puddled under the pipes.

Movement caught her eye and she fired the Scout in her hands without thought, catching the Legend in the shins and sending him scrabbling for cover. She cursed, passing up the fight as she vaulted the high wall, aware that Mirage could have two of them on him.

He was shouting, trash talk or a call-out for her she couldn't really decide. Someone had eyes on her, whispered a Voice, and she slid behind a bin as she raised her rifle. She swept her scope across the path she'd come from, shooting someone down. Confirmation pinged in her ear.

Ping. Team out.

Another team, then. Fuck. He might have a whole team on him. She got back to her feet. Two buildings to go. One. She slung the strap of her sniper over one shoulder and dragged up her Eva-8.

Gunfire, three kinds at least, raged inside. Someone howled, followed by a heavy thump and then-

"Shit-"

Mirage's voice cracked as he cried out too. She reached the door and kicked it open, and she caught the attacker square in the back with two shells, kicking aside the knockdown shield and putting a third in her chest.

Confirmed.

Mirage lay in a pool of blood, and something far in the back of Wraith's head started yelling.

She held the gun steady and barely heard the brief shuffle, swinging for the corner and confirming that kill too.

Ping. Another squad down.

She popped a single shield cell as she crossed the room, sliding on her knees across the garish red staining the floor.

He was entrenched in that close-call panic, eyes wide, hands scrabbling uselessly, frantically, as she reached him. She dragged his pistol from his hand, lest he do her damage in the throes of adrenaline. She pushed one hand onto his chest to hold him as still as she could, hastily dragging an abandoned medkit closer with the other.

Two wounds, which to focus on? Their was a gash across his ribs, bleeding steadily. His left leg, rapidly pooling, needed coagulants and _fast_.

The artery?

_Better make it fast._

He spluttered as she pressed the body of a syringe against his palm.

"Take this for the chest, I'll get the leg." she commanded.

It was as though her voice killed all the activity in the room, and he slumped backwards against the floor like a puppet with its strings cut. That couldn't be a good sign. He stared down at the cylinder with cloudy amber eyes, and Wraith felt her methodical confidence falter as she was washed with a chilling deja vu. Not uncommon, with her link to the Void, but cutting into her like ice when it was _this_ past.

Not again.

"Mirage." she repeated, firm and barked, but he only blinked at her with those hazy eyes. "Fuck. Don't go zoning out on me, take the meds already!"

Mirage's face was draining rapidly of colour and his eyes rolled back just as his head fell against the floor with a dull thud.

_You'll have to.  
__You don't have time.  
__You have to get out._

She might not make it. He'd need to leave her his Banner if he-

"Change your respawn agreement." she hissed at him suddenly, dragging the syringe from his hand and emptying it brusquely into the broken skin near the chest wound before discarding it, dropping back on her haunches to increase the pressure on his bleeding leg.

Mirage groaned loudly, leg twitching weakly away from her. She dragged it back and held it firm, wet hand rummaging in the open plastic box.

"Change it." she whispered furiously, stemming the bleeding clumsily with her left hand and grasping with uncooperative fingers for another syringe.

_Get out._

The medkit knocked further from them, her haste almost emptying it everywhere, and she cursed as she lost precious seconds scrabbling for it. The ring was sizzling and hissing as it neared, and the only thing she could hear over it was the rush of her own blood as she hastened to knot one clumsy bandage and wind another.

_You need to get out now, with or without him._

It was far too early to drop to two.

"Mirage!" she hollered, and that seemed to jolt him awake, rising weakly to one elbow, swaying like a drunk, "Change it _now_!"

_Wraith!_

Mirage didn't answer her, the pain on his face twisting his features as he ground his teeth hard together.

"I _mean it_!" she spat, trying hard to keep her voice low, suspicious of any camera that might have them in view right then, unable to concentrate on any one thing with the screaming in her head.

_Get out!  
__It's coming!  
__The Ring is on you!_

She didn't need anyone having this, didn't need them knowing she had this weakness, that he had crippled her with this unfamiliar panic. She couldn't think straight, couldn't decide why she cared and it was _not important_ right now. The ring was right outside. She had to get him up. They had to _go_.

_The next ring, Wraith!  
__Too far!  
__Get out!_

Pathfinder was yelling over comms but she didn't have time to decipher the words.

"_Mirage_!"

He fumbled with a pocket on his combats, dragging out the PDA he'd been assigned, the piece of tech that held his banner, all his stats. He pressed his thumb down hard on the screen as he cried out against the pain of her dealing with his wound.

_You're losing too much time!_

There was so much blood everywhere. Wraith's nose was choked with the smell of it. Her clothes were slippery with it. Her skin tightened, and buzzed as she worked. Anticipation of agony. She knew it was right, and she hated it. But it was all she had.

_It's here!_

The ring ate through the wall. It was now, had to be now. If it hit him she'd lose him, no amount of meds would stem that chunk of damage fast enough.

_Not again.  
__Get out.  
__Get out NOW!_

"Mirage-" cracked and dry.

His head dropped back and he looked at her with hooded, unreadable eyes.

"I did it, I did it."

Wraith pulled the last knot tight as the heat of the ring boiled the air near her back. Three feet, two. Inches away.

_Too late!_

Wraith gathered him into her arms and dropped into the Void.


	16. Chapter 16

_Chapter Sixteen_

Wraith ran, every nerve and every cell in her body burning with pain. She ran, and she ran, the white-orange heat of the ring warping around her as she dug her fingertips deep into the seams of the Void, holding fast to the weight of her squadmate.

She ran past the point of discomfort. She ran headlong into the heat-flash. And then she ran beyond it. She didn't dare unclench her teeth, for fear the pain would break the sea-wall where it was temporarily being held at bay. The pressure built continuously.

She ran through the water, passing the buildings as she raced for the incline past the Pit. The air began growing thick, but she couldn't stop. She still had so far to run, chasing the edge, cursing the angle as she pushed herself harder. It felt like the race would never end.

Everything grew brighter, and brighter, the pain steadily growing, searing into her skull in white-hot lances. A pained sound clawed its way from her throat, scathing her lungs as it escaped. Her every muscle grew heavier, and Mirage heavier still, as breathing became hard, exhausting, like breathing in cement and having to force it from her body again. Every instinct screamed for her to let go, warning her that she was doing damage to herself, but she wasn't in the safety of the inner ring.

Lightning crackled down her spine, popping in the very marrow of her bones, and breaking her hold on her voice. She bit down what she could of the yell, but it was there, pained and pitiful, like a demon burning.

_In their sights!_

Not now, not now, not here, not when she had-

Wraith's vision exploded in a kaleidoscope of colours as every section of her brain lit with sheer, soul-deep agony. Not yet. She had- She had to keep going. Not now, Not now!

Not again.  
Not again.

Time and distance warped, losing all reality as she forced herself to continue, the rhythm of her feet the only grip she still had on herself, the other hers whispering louder than they should, growing from their pale selves, becoming tangible.

One cried out mightier than the others, quenching them all in a single piercing cry, a sniper crack against her eardrum.

**_Now!_**

She tumbled from the Void, inches from the inner ring, and with the last of her waning strength she threw him, as they passed through the grace between worlds.

As she fell from her feet the ring seared her skin, but it was nothing. Wraith collided with the ground, landing weak on her knees as she gritted her teeth together against the rising taste of vomit on her tongue. Relief left her weak, her limbs trembling as she fought to stay upright.

Not here. Not in the Arena. Not where they can see.

She curled aching fingers into the soil and dragged herself forward, collapsing only when she was free of the ring, her lungs gasping so hard for air that she spasmed, coiling in on herself to stop herself from flailing. She focused hard on remaining very still. They didn't need this knowledge, and they didn't need her as a target. Not where it was so open, when she had to get them into the passes in the ridge. Her shields wouldn't take it.

The wasp's nest in her skull was enraged, drowning every sound as a thousand yellow-jackets assaulted the walls of her brain. She bit down hard on her tongue as she waited it out. Her comms crackled like fire in her ears.

"Wraith! You are in need of healing, your markers are blinking. Wraith?"

The edges of the air were blackened, as if they too had been singed by the pain that was still coursing through her entire system. The ground swam before her eyes, and she could hear everything and nothing, as she forced herself to breathe, blinking hard, eventually grinding her elbows into the ground through sheer force of will.

The air felt light and fluffy, cool against her skin as she pushed and pulled each calming breath, the drumming of her heart cutting into her chest as she willed it to slow. She wiped the sweat beading on her brow and pushed herself to her knees, then her feet, woozy with the weakness as she stumbled toward her downed teammate.

Taking hold of his shoulders without pause, she heaved him up past the nearest boulder, and dragged him several feet further up the incline, towards the peak of the ridge, choosing the closest place of relative safety and releasing him. Her muscles loosened gratefully.

No time to take a break, though, and she started dragging a first aid from her pack. Mirage was groaning weakly, blood trickling from one corner of his mouth as he turned his head, and his breaths were thin and raspy as though his lungs were full of water.

Wraith held his head up as she slid the first needle under his skin, propping him best she could with one arm and the boulder. His movements were sluggish, and when she tried to sit him further upright he choked out a mouthful or so of blood. This was not good at all. She was interfering in the dangerous window before death. The cold dread from the building returned in full force, kneading Wraith's vital organs like a cat.

_He's past down._

Not again.

_Respawning would be better._

"Stay with me here. _Fuck_! Mirage? _Mirage_!"

_Let him die.  
Bring him back after._

His head lolled back against the rock and he drew in a weak kind of choked breath. His eyelids rose slowly, and his whiskey eyes were fuzzed and vague. Wraith dug her fingers into his shoulder harder than was necessary and shook him roughly.

"Wake up, idiot. Don't you fucking dare die on me right now."

_You're in the open.  
Let him die.  
The others will come._

She was less gentle than she could have been as she re-dressed his leg, irritated by the way the bandages had shifted, by the way the blood was still seeping from him steadily. Her head was throbbing brightly. All she wanted was a minute, just some time, just some quiet! She dug through her pack for another syringe, growling under her breath.

"_Idiot_. Fucking _idiot_."

"Friends? Incoming, on your position!"

_Shit_. Shit, shit, _shit!_

Mirage was groaning, breathing in bloody, choked breaths.

"Can you cover?" she hissed back, lifting her head to survey what she could see of the area below them, wishing she'd been able to drag him further from the buildings, wishing he had the energy to climb the ledges in the rock above them, wishing the Ring had chosen a slightly different angle for its path, wishing they hadn't nearly lost a gunfight so fucking early, "Mirage is down."

"On my way!"

Wraith tried to ignore the concern in his robotic tone, for the clamouring in her head was quite enough for now, without dealing with _that_.

_You should have gotten out earlier._

And left him to bleed out?

_Collecting a Banner would have been easier._

That would have meant doing without, or having to risk a Respawn point.

_You've done it a hundred times._

It was too far to go back.

_Not on your own, with the help of the Void._

Well. Shut up. She'd done it now, no changing that. She pushed aside the Voices and the other, quiet whisperings from other times, and turned her focus back on her squadmate.

"Mirage, we have to move. They're coming."

He drew another watery breath, this one more sure than the others. Finally a sign the meds were doing their job.

"Sshhould've... leftme."

She growled at the absent slur in his voice, and shook him again. This time he winced, cringing away from her.

"Oww!"

"We gotta move." she snapped in response to his whine, and slid her rifle from her shoulder to chamber a round, using the scope to sweep the valley to the left.

She was relieved, regardless, to hear the strength returning to his voice. She'd just have to hope she'd done enough, this time.

Gunfire started up, close.

"They are headed to your position." came the instant notification, and Wraith elbowed Mirage to speed him up.

There was no time for compassion, for her to indulge his wound-licking. He had to get his shit together, and fast.

_You're exposed._

"Get down." she instructed, pushing Mirage toward the rock face, keeping a low crouch as she backed up with him.

No sooner had she done so, but the air above their heads crackled with the buzz of a Triple Take.

"Jeez. Your _shields_, Wraith."

His words took her by surprise, not only for the clarity that seemed to have magically appeared, and she realised she hadn't attended to them in her rush to get him out.

"Right. Giving my shields a recharge." she alerted Pathfinder, dragging the little canister from her pack and yanking the lever.

Beside her, Mirage dragged out one of his own. When hers popped, Wraith swept the valley again, spying the team their robotic ally was talking about. He'd engaged them, picking off one with his LongBow, but the sniper who'd almost gotten Wraith was most likely with a different squad.

She relayed that to Pathfinder, and he concurred. She steadied her elbow awkwardly against the curve of the rock, trying to get an angle while keeping her cover.

She was grateful now, for the less than ideal 6x scope she'd reluctantly pocketed, and she tracked her crosshairs along the distant buildings, searching. The whole way along, and back again, sure they'd still be there, sure that-

A minute glint.

She held her breath, finger feather-light as it began to squeeze. With the single shot, her PDA buzzed before she'd even followed through the movement of the recoil, and her kill-count climbed another.

Octane had been surprisingly still against the peak of that rooftop, only the lens of his scope giving him away. She was faintly impressed. But still victorious, a clean headshot. Last of his squad, too, by the ping of the counter.

"Good shot, Wraith!" Pathfinder called excitedly.

Wraith slid back behind the rock to reload, realising she'd neglected to before. She was sure she had, and the realisation was a sharp discomfort.

"Another team is coming up from the Wetlands!"

Wraith cursed, and readied her rifle, already knowing she wouldn't have a good visual from her position. She cast her gaze down where Octane had been camped, and hoped the buildings were empty.

"The building." she said, gesturing with her elbow though only Mirage could see, "The one between us and the pass to Bridges."

"Affirmative." responded Pathfinder, "Retreating now."

Wraith cast a glance to the squadmate at her side, noticing the pallor on his face, but the strength in his eyes.

"We're gonna be exposed," he said, as though he felt her gaze, staring down the open ground below, "it'll be tight if we make it."

Wraith wasn't sure where his cocky attitude had gone, but she was less pleased than she thought she'd be to see it had been put aside for now.

"We'll make it." she said, shouldering the sniper, "I hope you're ready to run."

Mirage gave a weak, barking laugh, and pushed to his feet, relying heavily on the rock face for support.

"You and me both, sister."


	17. Chapter 17

_Chapter Seventeen_

It was only a faint shuffle, but being hyper alert meant she caught it anyway, not totally decided on what it was. Feet on the metal outside? Whatever it was, it gave Wraith pause. If it was feet, she'd been flanked, and she was far enough from Pathfinder that she would have to be careful. She hunched, cocking her Eva at the door and listening, waiting, for the movement to resume.

"Wraith?" the voice in her ear spoke.

She clenched her teeth in irritation when the call was repeated.

He could be covering up the sound of someone encroaching on her cover, but she didn't dare even hiss a warning. For if she could hear someone, they were sure to hear her if they were paying attention. The biggest fault of many who failed to reach into the Elite roster, in Wraith's opinion, was that they underestimated. Better to assume better from your opponents and be proven superior, than to assume superiority and get caught short.

"Wraith? You're falling behind. There's a squad up-"

Whatever was said next was lost to her as the sound of a door opening made her dodge. Shotgun pellets littered the wall behind her as she slid low and rolled, rising to her knees and returning fire. The door swung shut, an effective shield, and Wraith turned away, threading into the space between worlds just in case.

The cold fire licked up her spine, still aching from earlier, but she was phasing back out before it could take proper hold. She threw open the narrower door in front of her, leaping for the bannister to save time on the stairs, and hauling herself onto the roof. A shot clipped her shoulder and knocked her balance, and she fell from the roof edge in surprise.

Another.

Shit.

Her squad had moved further up, leaving her this last building to loot before joining them. She debated for a split second, before deciding it wasn't worth it and turning tail. The edge of the next ring wasn't far. It'd move in to a spot just down the open metal bridge, relayed to herself and Mirage in advance by Pathfinder. Though it wasn't ideal to run outwards, putting even more distance between her and her squad at this late stage, she took the chance.

"We have a problem." she finally spoke, zigzagging down the steep bridge to Hydro, "There's a team between us, and I have to get out."

"Shit."

"I'll set up a zipline." came Pathfinder's instant reply, "Follow the ring wall and I shall meet you."

Wraith danced between the assault rifle shots chasing her down, taking a hit in the small of her back. While her shields held, the force of the impact jarred her entire body, and sent her legs fumbling for purchase.

"Setting up a zipline." came confirmation seconds later.

"Roger." she barked, no air spare for much else, and swung her path sharply to the left.

It wasn't until she saw the yellow rope fast approaching that she was sure that her pursuer had given up. Her lungs ached from the prolonged sprint, but she threw her arm up for the waiting handle and let it drag her closer to her team. She landed on the high peak beside the robot, and found the energy to smile as he greeted her.

"Thanks, Pathfinder."

"Happy to help, friend!"

Not two feet from the pole of the zipline, was another gleaming beetle black, and a yellow rope descending steeply into Repulsor. She gave Pathfinder an appraising glance as he gestured towards it for her to go first.

"Nice work."

His screen lit sunny and yellow as her feet left the rock, and he followed her.

No sooner had they landed, however, but things took a turn. Gunfire cracked hard and sharp below their feet.

"Incoming!" Mirage yelled, just as Wraith's toes touched down, and she threw her hands out for balance as the explosion shook the tall building.

They weren't ready for this fight, exposed on the rooftop and without line of sight. Fucking _idiot-_

"What the fuck?" she called out, pulling her shotgun into her hands as she watched their third race from the building doors.

"Mirage-"

And there, before her eyes, he shattered into sparks of blue light.

_Get down!_

"Sniper on the bridge!"

Wraith dropped the fasted way she could; right off the front of the rooftop, exposed. The Kraber hit her collarbone on her way down and she landed on her side, momentarily losing the ability to breathe.

"Wraith!"

_Get up!_

She flinched and curled on instinct.

"You are out of cover, friend!"

The second shot splintered what was left of her shields and tore a hole into her shoulder, the inches from her heart there but for the grace of the Voices. Her blood was hot, burning her cheek and almost blinding her. She flexed a palm and sliced open the air, still feeling the path of the third shot as it veered around her. Her left side went numb.

The Void crackled and lapped her skin, sinking deep claws into what little energy she had left, but she forced herself to her feet. There was gunfire inside. Mirage was yelling, and Pathfinder's Havoc was singing loudly, the Turbocharger she'd found him refining the hum. At least he'd swung inside, somehow. She had to get somewhere else. Out of this sandwich. She stumbled, slowed by the pain from phasing and the screaming hole in her shoulder, but she didn't dare drop her hold incase she was still in that Kraber's crosshairs.

This was a shit place to be, she briefly thought, as she threw herself around the corner of the building, the ledge narrow at her toes. She let go of the Void and gulped in the cooler air, clawing for the zip on her backpack.

She was separated from her team. Momentary cover to recoup wasn't much of an advantage if she couldn't keep them alive too.

The needle sank into her skin and she willed it to empty faster, tossing it and reaching for another as she listened to the chaos.

"Healing!" she hollered, dropping another syringe for a shield canister, filling her Blue tier all in one go, "On my way!"

"I am down!"

She threw the pack onto her back and lifted her Eva. She spun the corner with it raised and she rushed inside, slamming her back against the wall to take in what was happening. As her shoulders made contact with the doorframe, her PDA pinged.

Pathfinder was out.

The huge room was filled with snowy smoke, gunfire smattering. Lots of it blind, she bet, raising her gun to make use of the heat-function on the sights. She fired when the flash of red appeared, hearing someone yell out.

_Third team will be here soon._

Lifeline. She pumped another shell into the barrel and fired again. The light ting of a shield cracking. She raised it again.

Suddenly, there was fire at her feet.

Wraith cursed, leaping over it to rush for the staircase as her skin squealed and blistered, and something solid was deflected by her shields, landing behind her.

_Grenade!_

Wraith was blown forward, hitting her face against the metal railing and yelping as she barrel rolled away, further against the wall, her ears ringing as her vision swam.

_It's over._

Wraith barely had time to look her in the eye as the soldier cocked her rifle and took the shot.

Clean, right through her heart.

~.~

Wraith woke in the MedBay, disoriented and gasping as though she'd swam from the bottom of the sea. Her ears were assaulted by the noise in the room and nausea rose in her gut fast enough that she barely had time to turn her head and weakly try to rise.

The entire room was a flurry of movement and sound, a variety of prods. She felt drunk and weak.

Arms pushed her firmly down, and it took all the power she had to fight back the urge to push back. She gritted her teeth, forcing herself into her own head. Forcing herself backward, into the shadows, into the safety as her body screamed in a hundred different agonies and the Voices hollered about the Facility, devolving into vicious, feral howls.

"You're doing great, Wraith! Hang in there, love."

Wraith clung to the sound amidst the smog of others, and counted her breaths.

Not the Facility.  
Not the Facility.

The MedBay, the MedBay. She was in the MedBay.

She passed out again and woke several times, and by the time it was over she was exhausted and so full of pain meds she could barely open her eyes.

They'd lost. She hadn't lost in…. in too long. She'd won almost everything since her beginning. She fought, she won. It was what she did. Things should have been different.

Things _could_ have been different.

If she'd been there sooner for that fight. If Pathfinder hadn't had to come for her. If Mirage hadn't started a fight with a full team on his own.

The Voices drew quiet now they were assured of where she was, and Wraith brooded, the darkness in her head growing sharp edges as what pieces she had of that final fight slotted together in her head. They had that. They had that ground and if he'd waited just seconds more...

A whisper, from another place, breathed to her.

_There are others._

Wraith heaved a sigh to release some energy, the biggest movement she could manage. She couldn't help hating to feel so paralysed, hating to feel so trapped. She hadn't died in more than a year. She'd forgotten the agony. She didn't think she had, had thought she'd kept it fresh in her mind but she'd forgotten its extent, how her very cells screamed as they were torn apart and reassembled. The pain brightened the shadows in her mind every time her muscles twitched, making the rolling in her gut an endless trigger.

What others?

_There were others._

What others?

_Other paths._

Other pasts? What happened there?

_You survived, this time._

Wraith was swelled by the dark when it came for her again, her lungs like heavy lead under the unsettling chill the whisper brought with it.

From the earliest moments that she could remember, patchy and fuzzy and filled with violence as they were, Wraith had heeded the Voices. They'd gotten her out, they'd kept her alive, and they'd kept her _safe_.

She'd ignored them today. Wilfully, blinded by that cold dread of repeating days when she'd seen her squadmate bleeding out, a hole in his abdomen. An uncanny portrait of the Legend they'd lost only three weeks prior. Maybe it had been a warning from another time. Maybe the Voices had been right. Maybe she should have left him. Maybe she hadn't been ready. Whichever way she looked at it, it left an acrid taste in her mouth and a frightening buzz in her gut. She'd have to keep an eye on that.


	18. Chapter 18

_Chapter Eighteen_

She wished she hadn't bothered trying to eat. Her pace was fast, the desperate need for escape growling under her skin.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Look, I'm sorry that-"

"Leave me alone, Mirage."

_Watch out._

Even as she whirled on him his hand was grasping at her wrist and Wraith yowled as she yanked herself away.

"Wraith-"

"Don't touch me." she snarled, drawing back as a growl rose in her throat.

She could feel her heartbeat galloping. She could feel the curl of her lip against her teeth. She dug her fingers into her wrists against the sparks, and she tracked him. Why the hell he'd followed her all the way here from the canteen was a mystery, just plain proof he was as stupid as he acted. She'd made it clear she wasn't interested in talking.

In short, she wished he'd disappear into the ether and had half a mind to put him there herself, because all she wanted was some time in her own company to unwind the feral aftermath the Game had left her with.

He was watching her carefully, hands partially raised in surrender. He'd stilled, made no attempt to get any further into her space. But what caught her attention most was that he didn't look afraid of her.

He looked… different. It made her uneasy. A tickle ghosted her mind as she shot him one last look and turned away. Her pace was barely less than a run, she was so desperate to put space between them.

It made her pulse jump, that he'd looked at her with that in his eyes. Her skin crawled uncomfortably, the wildness still too close to the surface. She needed to run off some energy. She didn't want his apologies, the Game was done and she'd said her piece to him. So why was he looking at her with such…

_Concern._

Wraith pushed the Voice away, and headed for the outside.

~.~

It was barely a day before he found her again, and she was struck quite suddenly with the question of why he was so doggedly pushing her to engage all the time. She opened her mouth to ask, the moment he appeared in the area, but his jaunty wave and bright grin were unexpected and she lost the words as he approached.

_This is a bad idea._ came the faintest whisper.

Wraith frowned, startled and unable to decipher what it was that was a bad idea.

"Do you ever take a day off?" was what he chuckled when he was close enough, a rifle slung over his shoulder.

He sported his battle-gear, or most of it, and swept his fringe up from his face as he drew near enough to stop. She looked him over, and he seemed to know it.

"What do you want?"

Grin never faltering, he raised the gun. She didn't need to lift the Eva for him to see it, but she did. He nodded, his eyes gleaming.

"Nice choice."

He dumped a duffel at his feet, and nudged it with the toe of one boot.

"You're running live?"

She dipped her chin, keeping her eyes trained on him as she reloaded the shotgun. He nodded as if he'd asked a stupid question, and the curiosity as to why he'd come grew stronger. Usually, when she wanted people to back off, she had an easier time convincing them.

"Why are you here, Mirage?" she asked again, watching as he rummaged through the gear he'd brought, laying it all out on the grass.

"Figured now was good a time as any for training."

_He's lying_.

Yeah, thanks. She didn't need to be told _that_. She could see it.

"Why are you _here_?"

"You want to switch to paint? I brought a live rifle in case, but…"

That typical, easy shrug as he started off on some tangent or other. She scowled. The evasion was clear and easy to read, and she'd had enough of his shit yesterday without dealing with his ridiculous attitudes today too. She'd prefer he fucked right back off where he came from. Her patience was low as it was, and she just wanted some _peace_.

"Mirage."

His tongue stopped, and he met her eye with an almost sheepish expression. She waited.

"I figured it was a good excuse to check if you were okay."

The honesty caught her by surprise, and Wraith was startled with the lack of words that she could find to respond with.

"… Okay?"

"After I crossed your boundaries yesterday. We won't make much of a team if I'm doing that."

"Which boundary?" she asked, without meaning to engage him, frustrated that she seemed unable to avoid it.

He swallowed, and though his expression was still pleasant, a shadow flickered there for just a second.

"Your thing about physical contact." he said bluntly, and she shied away.

He was more astute than she'd given him credit for. She should have known. There wasn't enough luck in the Frontier for someone to climb to where he had without a good amount of the other skills his fellow Elites had in droves. But she'd been wrong about him.

"Why?"

Mirage shrugged good-naturedly and smiled.

"I owe you an apology, for starters. Shouldn't have touched you without asking." he answered, on the quiet side, "I… I know how little you like physical contact, I shouldn't have grabbed you."

When she shot him a curious look, he wasn't looking her way. But she could see the shape of him; the relaxed curve of his shoulders, the angle of his head, tipped to one side in an easy acceptance of fault.

"I responded aggressively." she admitted, unsure why she did, "So I'm sorry too."

Mirage looked over at her in slight surprise, before a lopsided smile lit his face.

"Apology accepted," he told her, and Wraith felt something in her gut unclench.

He held up the choice of weapons from the duffel, and something quiet inside Wraith nudged her to accept the olive branch. She took the gun, watching him set his PDA and hearing the silent warping of the air as his settings were adjusted. She matched him, senses lighting in preparation as he shared out the rest of what he'd brought, and she dumped her shotgun.

She hadn't foreseen sparring with him, not the first time nor again. Not when it had been so stilted and unhelpful last time. But as she readied her gear and gave him time to find his cover, Wraith wondered if this time would be less of a disaster.

And if it wasn't, hey. At least she was getting the chance to shoot him.

~.~

_You're not alone_.

The murmur was sedate, more an observation than a warning, and so she needn't heed it. She was clipping Mirage's shield with pellets a few minutes later when the system flashed to notify them that someone else was approaching, and they raised a hand each in truce to step from behind cover.

Wraith didn't need to look for who it was, hearing the tread a mile away. Her stomach sank.

"Oh great." Mirage groaned, alerting her that he too had noticed who it was, "This guy."

~.~

She shifted, narrowing her eyes and saying nothing in return. Octane laughed, and shrugged.

"You like yor secrets, huh? I gettit. But _really,_" he leaned towards her as though conspiring, "what else do they call you?"

"Just Wraith." she said, slowly and carefully, with her irritation clear in her tone.

"Just _Wraith_, okay," the newcomer repeated, his hispanic lilt leaning the sound of her name sideways as he stepped back and looked at her appraisingly, "I _like_ it. Dangerous, fierce. What a rush!"

His gaze flicked towards Mirage and the grin widened, taking on a challenging edge.

"Thee best kind of women are, don'tcha think, hot shot?"

Mirage only threw him a silent look, brow narrowed, mouth set. It almost amused Wraith that the speedster was clearly getting on Mirage's nerves. Turned tables, she thought. Octane merely chuckled at him. Wraith's face, however, gave nothing away as she raised an eyebrow.

"So Octane, because you're fast."

He cackled gleefully, bouncing on his toes.

"It's clever, uh?"

She hummed, and he flashed her that grin again.

"I'd race ya," he said, with a lazy grin coiling in the corner of his mouth, "but the way I see it, you don't like losing."

Wraith smirked faintly.

"You think I can't beat you?"

The new Elite laughed in delight.

"Mira, I _know_ you can't beat me. Nobody beats the Octrain."

Wraith only looked at him.

"You've never raced me before."

"Hey, way to leave a guy out." Mirage joked, but Wraith noticed the tightening around his eyes.

Octane was bothering him more than he was letting on.

"You could work on your aim," Octane suggested cheekily, wolfish grin wide, "shoot some targets."

Mirage's own grin was loud, and he dropped a hand to the butt of the rifle hanging at his side.

"Hey, maybe I shoot you guys," he countered, "make your race less boring to watch."

Octane laughed, running a handful of paces on the spot as he did, the way some people might slap their thigh.

"I _lov_ it, amigo! Let's do it!"

~.~

"Race me again, hey Mira!" he called after her, "Maybe I have a way to make things more excitin'!"

She turned in her jog, slowing but still moving backwards as she cocked an eyebrow. With his stimulants, it had been obvious he'd win, but she'd enjoyed the simplicity of competition and a good run was, well, good for her.

On the other hand, he'd clearly taken more fire from Mirage than she had, though part of Wraith wasn't sure how much of that was down to her own evasion.

"And what would that be?"

Octane gave her a lazy, sultry kind of smirk.

"Stakes."

Wraith raised her eyebrows and continued to jog backward, flashing a small smirk when he faked offence, before his face lit devilishly once more.

"If I win, you and I could fight together, sometime. It'd be a rush, leave our opponents in the _dust_, compadre!"

"And our squadmate." she tossed back.

Octane looked surprised and then quickly brushed it off, giving her an open-palmed shrug with just a hint of abashed, and meeting her raised eyebrow with one of his own.

"Wellll…" he chuckled.

She only hummed in answer, before turning again and taking her leave across the wasteground to the GamesHub. Octane called after her with laughter in his words. Mirage was silent on the journey back, but she didn't have the energy left to wonder what he was thinking.

Personally, she wanted a hot shower and clean clothes, and the simple comfort of her bed.


	19. Chapter 19

_Chapter Nineteen_

The knock was quiet but firm. When she made no move to answer it beyond looking up at the dark wood, it came again. Wraith closed the book carefully, reluctant as she set it on the bedside table. She shook off the feeling of unease and disappointment, and crossed the lamplit room to turn the handle.

Opening the door a mere few inches, she was greeted by the sight of Mirage, out of his favoured combat gear and looking small and normal in sweatpants and a hoody. He smiled at her, but there was a strangeness in his eyes that told her he wasn't just making social calls.

"Hey," he murmured, glancing down the hallway, "can we talk?"

She hesitated, weighing up privacy against keeping him out of her safest space. He quirked an eyebrow almost bashfully when she didn't answer. She bit her lip.

"Sure," she decided, unexpected even to herself, "you should probably come in."

If she was expecting him to make one of his typical flirtatious her at her invitation, she was mildly surprised that he refrained. She stood aside and watched awkwardly as he edged into the room, and pressed the door closed behind him as soon as she could.

He was taking in the room, she knew. Taking advantage of the chance to gather intelligence on her. She may be antisocial, but Wraith was never stupid. She knew there was speculation about her, even amongst the Elites she considered acquaintances, or perhaps even friends sometimes. She knew they wondered who she was and what she was beyond the Arena.

Now she'd given Mirage, of all people, permission to see her place.

_Why?_

"Minimal." he murmured to her, sounding almost appreciative, "I'm not even surprised."

"What do you need to talk about?" she prompted, suddenly desperate to make him leave again, because she didn't have an answer.

He was making her feel claustrophobic and exposed, in her own room.

He tipped his head to glance at her but then he turned away again, eyes dancing over her walls, her bed, her desk. He spied the book on the nightstand, but he didn't start towards it.

"Pathfinder and I were ah- well, we were just wondering if you were gonna make joining us in the ring a regular-" (he briefly ghosted the word he was going to say, replacing it as though foreseeing issues, with so little hesitation that Wraith almost missed it,) "thing."

Her gut clenched uneasily. Her heart raced uncomfortably at the implication of such closeness. She folded her arms tight around her body and narrowed her eyes.

"That wasn't what we discussed."

"No, I know, we were just opit-optimic-optimitis- I- uh- _hopeful_ that you'd consider it."

He shrugged off the stumble in his usual easy manner, but there was a brief cloud of irritation in his eyes. It passed quickly, but it made Wraith uncomfortable to have seen it, despite the fact that she couldn't help, like any of the others, to notice his infrequent stutter.

"It was a rough game." she answered slowly, watching his face closely, "We didn't feel cohesive, to me."

She didn't need to say that she thought it was a loss she wouldn't have had if she'd been without them.

Mirage winced, and rubbed his neck. For the second time, he looked smaller, different from usual.

Vulnerable, almost.

"We… We think maybe practice would help, there."

Wraith frowned.

"I… don't." she picked her words carefully, "Do that." she said, hesitating before expanding, "Pick my squad."

He looked down at his feet, the tips of his ears pinking. It was unsettling to see him like that. She almost wished he'd make one of his irritating jokes just to reassure her she was really there in that moment, when she felt so much like she wasn't.

"I… I'm sorry. For being part of issue with the cohish- cohsesi- teamwork." he answered quietly.

Wraith felt uncomfortable to see him vulnerable, even just for a second, and shied away from the potential heart-to-heart.

"Path's really keen to work with you again."

She said nothing, tightening her arms across her chest. Mirage shifted, the fingers of one hand moving to fiddle with the cuff of the other wrist. Wraith watched him, wishing he'd leave. Wishing she could open her own mouth and tell him to. It was disconcerting to find her tongue unable, and a Voice whispered somewhere about a warning.

She was sick of voices. She just wanted some peace and quiet. Not cryptic help, not to be faced with this strange version of the Trickster, looking out of place and uncomfortable like she was seeing more and more regularly.

Why couldn't he just back off? Leave her alone?

"Listen, I'm sorry, about the Game." he muttered, avoiding her eye, "I was… I should have listened to you before. I… I picked that fight too early."

"You cost us that fight." she answered, truthfully, watching her words make him wince.

"I know."

"Then learn from it."

He raised his head to look at her, caramel-coffee eyes sweeping her face. Wraith tightened her fingers on her arms. He looked like he were forming words, but he said none of them. Wraith had had enough. She was tired, and she was tired of him.

"Mirage?"

"Yes?"

"I'd like to get some rest now."

"Oh." he said, softly, looking suddenly even more uncomfortable, "Right. Yeah, sorry, I- right."

He turned toward the door, pulling it open with one hand and pausing. Wraith opened her mouth to say something sharp to make him leave, but he turned his head a little to the side and spoke first.

_Be careful_. came a sudden, clear warning. Adrenaline jolted through her veins.

"Just… think about it. I know we could be Champions, you and me and Path. We just need some practice."

The door fell closed behind him with a gentle '_snick'_, and Wraith was left with the disconcerting feeling that she was seeing someone who wasn't Mirage. Deja vu curled around her head like weak smoke, too vague to grasp and only irritating her.

Be careful of what? she asked, but there was no answer.


	20. Chapter 20

_Chapter Twenty_

The peace she had found as she awaited the dropship was shattered by an obnoxious voice. She ignored him, not even venturing to open her eyes. She knew he was there, as he knew she was. But she had more important things to be doing in her own head than entertaining him.

"Hey Mira! What d'you think my chances are of teaming wichyu, huh?"

_He's talking to you._

She didn't need them to tell her that, she could feel his eyes on her where she was, tucked into shadow.

"Hey! You sleepin'? Man, you sure are a wild card if you can sleep now, amigo!"

Wraith kept her eyes tight shut, but her blood prickled with the need to move around, energy trickling into her system at even such a low threat as his voice. It was primal, the way the battle could take over you, people were more full of sharp edges right before a Game.

"Hey! Keep it movin', short stuff." came the only retort, Bangalore's distinctive no-nonsense tone cutting through the ruckus in the air.

"Don' go pickin' fights before a Game, would ya?" Lifeline chuckled.

"I see, I see," Octane laughed in return, "Top of the food chain gotter self some _muhh-scle_!"

Wraith did crack an eye open then, vaguely curious to see Bangalore's expression. If the straight-laced soldier had her issues with Mirage, what did she really make of Octane?

"If you wanna see muscle…" the tall woman retorted, threat unspoken as she eyed the speedster.

He backed away with his hands up, grin wide on his face. His eyes flicked to Wraith and if possible, the grin widened.

"I knew you were awake."

Wraith only looked back at him impassively and he turned back loudly to the crowd of other participants, joining the roar as if he'd never left it. Wraith turned her gaze to the women who'd herded him off, but neither were looking her way and she appreciated that. Bangalore had been one of the first to recognise Wraith's space and allow her it, pressing only gently for her presence at meals and activities on occasion. Lifeline did so much more frequently and firmly, ignoring many of Wraith's signals sometimes, but both knew when to leave her be.

All at once, the noise fell dramatically, as sixty PDAs buzzed and lit up, signalling the teammates they'd be entering the ship with. Wraith's screen gave no familiar faces, and she pushed off the wall to better sweep her gaze across the room.

Naturally, there were some perks to being so recognisable.

"Ms Wraith!" a voice spoke up from a face turned her way, and the owner made his way over.

A touch on the short side, he stopped beside her with barely an inch of height on her. He was young, lean but filled out with athletic muscle, and carried what looked like a compact bow slung over one shoulder. He offered a hand.

"Preston," he introduced himself as she shook politely, "but Darwyn's my Game name."

And that was when it clicked. She'd heard the name, a couple times, one of several that people had been mentioning lately as potential up-and-comers. She'd figured him a while before he turned up in one of the top-league Games, but sometimes as a solo in the open pool, you just got lucky with the assignments.

"Wraith," she said, though it was clearly not required, "I've heard. Good to have you on board."

"You'll be our JumpMaster, I assume." he answered, fiddling with his PDA before pocketing it, voice without that touch of acrid pride she'd met often enough.

First time in a Game with a lot of big names gave people something to prove. He didn't chase the statement that she'd heard of him, either. She took it for a good sign.

"If there's no real argument." she responded, and he nodded.

"Not from me, I'm here to learn today."

Wraith felt a small smile cross her face that he left out the "from the best". Unless she was very wrong, he'd do well with her today, if he wasn't dancing around like an awe-struck newbie and stroking her ego. Those were a shame, truly, because a lot of their potential was wasted when they couldn't focus.

While she couldn't empathise, having ignored the hierarchy when she played her first Game with the intent to scour abandoned computers for information, she _could_ sympathise. She'd been unable to keep alive many a teammate who had something to prove and could have done so, if they weren't so afraid of what she might think of their performance. She did her best to keep people alive and useful, but sometimes it just wasn't possible.

Wraith shut that track down hard, because the dark thoughts of the recent squadmate she'd lost permanently would hamper her today, if she let them in.

As they made their way to the Bay doors to await entry to the dropship, they picked up their third. A little older, scrawny, shorter than them both and sporting goggles similar to Octane's, Wraith briefly wondered if he were inspired by him. He darted furtive, watery blue eyes over Darwyn at Wraith's side as he offered her a hand.

"Pleasure to be teamed with one of the Elites," he said as she shook it, and there it was; faint but undeniable, the trace of ego, "I'm Barker. You are?"

Darwyn shook his hand firmly, his smile never faltering despite the belittling nuance Wraith was already worried was going to cause issue with their harmony.

"Darwyn. I've seen you in action, good to have you with us."

Barker simply nodded as though that was to be expected, and slid his goggles over his eyes.

"I'd love to be able to say the same, but I'm afraid I haven't noticed you."

Wraith bit down the urge to hum warningly, aware that this might be something the two of them could resolve themselves without her having to make any point about being their most experienced. Cohesion was the height of importance out in the Canyon, and she didn't want to bruise any egos by assuming command, though she would if it were necessary.

"Most people don't look round much when they're climbin'." Darwyn remarked good-naturedly, "Their eyes are upward, studying the future competition."

Barker said nothing, but a crease touched his brow as he lifted his pack from the floor.

"I imagine any attempt to claim JumpMaster would be futile?" he directed to Wraith instead, and decided her.

"Afraid so." she returned quietly.

The man nodded, making no further comment to convey the displeasure she saw in his eyes, and fell into step beside her as the large metal doors finally began to creak open. Darwyn shot Wraith a look in solidarity, faint curl of amusement on his lip, and she did her best not to respond in kind. It was best all round if she didn't play favourites, she'd seen that end badly for others, but there was no denying who was looking to be more pleasant to work with.


	21. Chapter 21

_Chapter Twenty One_

They spent the short flight in relative silence. There was no need for her to explain what she could do, and she'd heard enough of Darwyn to know enough to be reactive to his plays. Barker seemed straightforward too. As he handed them both a pair of goggles similar to his own, he gave a brief and professional rundown of his kit.

Flashbangs. High-grade, damage-your-eyes flashbangs. The filter coating on their goggles would do just that; filter out much of the light spectrum he used, and reduce the effects to a mere bright light without affecting their regular vision too much, according to the curt man.

Besides that interaction and a brief exchange of trash talk with Octane - the man was hopped up and bouncing around like a loose spring talking shit to everyone the entire journey - the three sat on a bench and watched the others, anticipation slowly building.

Finally, when the siren blared, Wraith took her place at their door, breathing in the fresh gust of hot air as the entry points of the ship all slid open. They were over Thunderdome, looking to cross directly over Artillery at the end. Wraith cast her gaze across the large expanse of the Canyon the ship would stay clear of, and plotted their path.

"Swamps." she decided, flicking each a glance to check agreement.

No arguments. Good.

They passed over Skull Town. The ship was half empty already, and Wraith grew more sure of her chosen destination. Market approached on their right. She'd dive when the path drew level with Bridges, and they'd glide.

"Any advice?" Darwyn asked, looking at her sideways with the first fresh touch of nerves she'd seen in his face.

She considered it as they poised themselves over the drop, waiting for her signal.

"Listen." she said, pushing up onto her toes to fall, "And _fight_."

~.~

Wraith held up a hand, the sudden movement catching the eye of both her squadmates, who immediately froze. She lifted her head, gaze fixed in the middle distance as she focused on the sound.

Definitely feet, heavy by the sounds of it, passing outside the building further down. They'd cleared Swamps quick, laden with loot and uncontested, and had already cleared the closest compound in the Wetlands. She'd planned to hit Relay, if they had the time, and pass back through Wetlands to wherever the next ring was to fall. That plan would likely change now, with another team so close.

She listened to the path, eyes flickering to Darwyn, whose doorway they were headed for. A soft murmur. She recognised the low, even tone, and shook her head as the archer tipped his head.

They didn't want to start this fight from in here. Not when there had been enough time for the man's ability to be allowed online. She raised one hand over her mouth, mimicking a gas mask as she looked deliberately between the two.

Two nods, and Darwyn eased from the doorway. They listened. When the feet passed that same doorway, Wraith was moving. Swift, she'd exited the opposite door, rounded the building, and levelled her Flatline.

Dr. Caustic's shield glinted purple as her clip emptied into his back, and she figured she'd weakened them good as she scrambled for cover as all three opponents turned with a yell. The air was shattered by the barrage of gunfire just a second later.

"Caustic shields!" she yelled as she took hit just before cover, the stray pellet of a Peacekeeper out of range.

"On it."

Tread on the roof, and then the whistle-whoosh she recognised from his banner move. Fire erupted in the centre of the squad as Darwyn's arrow brushed their shields and hit its mark in the dirt, whatever was inside reacting viciously with the air upon impact.

"The Archer!"

"Shit-"

Wraith grinned as she swung herself over the railing to the second storey balcony, and flicked an arcstar against the arm of a retreating figure.

The green cloud exploded on the ground underneath her, and the noxious poison rose into the air. She fell back, climbing the roof proper, balancing carefully on the open lattice of metal as she rained fire into the thick fog, listening as well as she could for the sound of any round landing, watching for any glinting shield-lights.

Darwyn came from the doorway below her, following her lead while Barker held the lower level. A lot of gunfire was traded, but neither side was hitting hard as the gas continued to hiss and rise. The ring timer chimed. They had two minutes before it started moving.

They had the higher ground, but blinded by the green the enemy were encased in, she knew the Doctor could see her.

_Move._

And there he was, taking aim at her and clipping her shoulder as she leapt left to the ground.

"Get down, he's got sight advantage!" she hollered.

A shadow behind her caught her eye and she whirled, but she recognised the retreating figure in the same second a spat curse answered her as a small red light flashed on her wrist.

"Barker?" as he hunkered down to tug out a shield cell.

"My shields are down." came Barker's voice, but she was already turning back towards the building as her feet started moving, "Falling back."

The sound of a door swinging open was followed instantly by the heavy tread of feet on stairs, and Wraith knew what was happening, and knew she had no way to help in time even as she raced along the back of the building for the doorway Barker has just left through.

"No, wait-" Darwyn was cut off by the gunfire, a Peacekeeper blast knocking him from the balcony from the sounds of the blunt thump above Wraith's head.

A beat of silence as the shotgun was levelled again, and he cried out. Wraith flew up the stairs, rounding on the enemy as he drew back his hand for a finishing move. It took only a short burst to knock him to the floor, but she had no time to aid Darwyn as the second figure kicked open the door from the balcony.

The Doctor's heavy tread was on the stairs, and Wraith drew a breath. She dropped her last arcstar at her feet as something cracked her shield. She shot out one hand to yank her fallen squadmate towards her and flexed the other to drag them both into the Void as the throwable crackled to life.

~.~

The silence was tense as she dropped Darwyn behind a loot bin, throwing open the lid for better cover as she drew the syringe from her side pocket.

"Keep look out." she bit out as she twist off the cap and slid the needle carefully into the skin of Darwyn's arm.

If Barker made and reply she didn't hear it, for the archer was coughing as she dealt with him.

"Knocked- shit- the wind." he hacked out, and Wraith blew out a short breath.

"Peacekeeper'll do that." she said, and the man gave a sharp bark of laughter through his grimace.

"Ain't that the truth."

"When you're finished, there's a sizeable distance between us and the ring." came the curt sound of their third, and Wraith felt Darwyn tense under her hands as she knotted the bandage at his chest.

She bit down a warning, for she knew the worst thing she could do in what might be a volatile situation was take sides, but she knew which was right as Darwyn spoke.

"Wouldn't be anything to finish if we'd not been gotten in that room."

His voice was calm, but there was a steel under it that made Wraith's nerves light with adrenaline as he finished. She said nothing, handing him another syringe as she dragged out a shield cell of her own, but the air was thick and the accusation palpable.

Barker had backed off from that fight without communicating first, and Darwyn's fight had swiftly doubled from one front to two. She cursed that she'd chosen to dive from the rooftop right at that moment, or she'd have been better placed to prevent him being wounded so badly.

Barker's response was further silence, and Wraith did her best not meet Darwyn's eye either, eager not to encourage him as she got back on her feet.

The ring was moving, and would be on their heels shortly, and Barker was right about one thing. They had the entire Cascades to cross for the safety by Bunker, or the Pit. She reloaded her Flatline, and pocketed the grenades in the bin, handing the light magazine down to Darwyn for his R-99.

"Thanks."

Wraith dipped her chin in a nod, and shouldered her backpack.

"We better get moving."

~.~

People were staying alive. Nearly half the squads were out by the time Wraith was hunkered down in the corner of a beam of the high ledge in the Pit. The whole place shadowed by the gathering dusk, only the soft orange that rose from the huge underground fans lit the enclosed area. Just inside the next ring, it was as good a place to catch some sleep as anywhere else, with the additional advantage of heavy shadows in the corners where they were, due to the towering walls.

Anyone not looking closely could pass right through and never even see them. Her turn on lookout, her Flatline rested across her raised knees, but the area had been blessedly quiet. There had been far-off gunfire earlier, but it seemed everyone had had the same idea. A few hours sleep, and a refreshed start. The ring waited, the GameMakers watching for the squad who'd fall to set in motion the next movement.

At least when it did, she wouldn't be racing to get in it. To keep her hands busy Wraith had opened a protein bar, slitting the wrapper open methodically in all corners so that it lay as a perfect flat section for her to pick at its contents.

A rustle from her far left signalled Barker had woken, and he too was replenishing his strength. Wraith sipped from her water bottle, more to wash down the dry bar than anything else. Since their failed attempt to take down Dr. Caustic and his squad, they'd skirted danger and had only met a lone legend, whom they'd swiftly dispatched.

Beyond the brief communications for that short fight, there had been barely a handful of words spoken between them, and all of them by herself when she'd chosen Pit to wait out the night.

"Second watch?" she whispered, and the rustling stopped.

"Agreed." came the reply, and Wraith set the bottle aside.

She wouldn't sleep, she never really could in the Arena, but she might doze a little if she were lucky. Perhaps being a little better rested would help with their mood. Wraith certainly hoped so, because things were only going to get worse as the Game moved on, and she needed them both working like a team in the fights ahead.


	22. Chapter 22

_Chapter Twenty Two_

_Wraith opened her eyes as a surge of panic crested her, and as she struggled to draw breath, she realised that she didn't know where she was. The world was dark as she dug her fingers into the ground she lay on._

_Her ribs ached. Her back throbbed, like she'd been thrown._

_She wheezed as her frantic gaze swept what little she could see. Where was she?_

_Where had she been last? The panic in her head had all her thoughts jumbled, and she felt displaced, like she'd been thrown into someone else's head, the arms she moved not her own._

_A dream?_

_A vision?_

_No help came from the Voices. Were they even there? Why couldn't she get up?_

_She felt the heart in her chest like a loose stallion fleeing._

_Night. The sky was up there, somewhere that she couldn't see. There was a tower, falling. Movement! In the dust cloud was a man, his face twisted in pain and rage, painted in blood. There were bodies at his feet._

_The smoke, so much smoke, everywhere. It was acrid. It forced itself into her nose, the stink of it. Not sweet like Bangalore's, or hot like grenades and gunfire._

_Flesh burning._

_Wraith lay on her back, body uncooperative as she watched him. Her blood was filled with dread, and she had no memory why._

_But this man, she knew he was Fear._

_The smoke. Her lungs burned. It felt like the air was turning to water as she breathed it in, familiar somehow._

_This was an ending. There was loss here. It cried to her from somewhere across the Void. Her brain was full of wasps, yelling and angry to be swamped in treacle. Paralysis._

_Wraith tried to breathe and couldn't, the dreadful smoke leaking down her throat like a solid thing, like a snake. She choked, but it didn't help._

_He had spied her, and his footsteps were deep and even as he stalked toward her. She tried to move, tried to get away, but all she could do was watch, immobile, drowning in fear and unable to breathe._

_He got close enough for her to see what he was holding, the strange contraption in his hands. It fizzed and buzzed and cried out like it was alive. Some kind of metal, moving in his hands._

_He knelt over her._

_No!_

_She tried to scream but couldn't._

_His face was moving, swimming, as though it wasn't real, was made of water. The fear. The loss. But his face… His face was- was-_

_The Void._

_He pushed the screaming contraption into her chest and her body burned in agony, her muscles tightening so hard they felt like they'd pop and curl, burst into flame like kindling._

_Then the blackness came, cold and empty, and Wraith let it._

~.~

She woke with a jolt. The air was cool, and an involuntary shiver ran up her spine when she drew breath. Her pulse was normal as she blinked in the darkness, the ache in her lungs gone. She felt wholly out of place in her own skin as her mind caught up and she swallowed, expecting a dry pain that didn't come.

The Pit. She was where she'd fallen asleep, tucked into a shadowed corner where they'd chosen to get some rest. She cocked her head automatically to listen briefly, but the air was quiet. She shook her head as she propped herself up, the rough of the cement grating against her gloves and helping her to ground herself back in her own self.

The sense of foreboding in her gut lingered, but that was something she would have to deal with later. She forced the dream from her mind, reaching for the bottle of water beside her. As she began twisting the lid, the faint scrape of the lid against the metal was followed almost instantly by something else.

A sound so imperceptibly small that she almost didn't hear it. Every muscle in Wraith's body froze as she sucked in a breath. The faint, muted click of a sniper bolt being drawn impossibly slowly. She sensed the shadow more than saw it, and in a single fluid motion she twisted shut the bottle lid and dropped it as she threw herself from the ledge with yell.

"Barker!"

The Kraber decimated Darwyn's shields in a single round.

The Void welcomed her as she darted across the room, warping the reflexive fire that turned her way at her cry, one hand sweeping the goggles down from her forehead. The archer was already on the ground behind a crate, scrambling for a shield cell as she reached him, sleep-blurred eyes tracking her movement as she dropped back into the space beside him, dragging in a fresh breath and grabbing his shoulder before allowing the Void to guide them back in a second, tunnel collapsing the instant she let go.

The Pit exploded in light, bright even behind her goggles, and she tossed a grenade as she slammed her side against another crate, Darwyn filling his shields at her feet.

"Thanks."

"Let me know when." she answered, levelling her Flatline on the top of the crate and firing at the startled legend yelling from the large, flashing ball that Barker had lobbed right into the centre of the Pit. The air was a garbled mess of yelling and gunfire, but Wraith focused on the shield she was breaking.

"Full squad." came Barker's clipped alert, "One's got cover at the tunnel mouth!"

Wraith slid the pin from a second grenade with her teeth and drew back her arm, launching its weight in a high arc without halting fire, rifle supported by the crate.

A howl. Her target dropped just as the ordinance went off. The member from the tunnel mouth dashed suddenly across the open room, skating behind a crate too fast for Wraith to hit and flanking instantly. She ducked, aware leaving her cover put her in line of sight for the third, following Darwyn as the man returned the fire in the hopes their shields would hold out.

Darwyn's voice was level and devoid of jest in the seconds they fired.

"When."

If Wraith were the type to laugh in a firefight, she just might have then.

Several rounds peppered her armour, but the gunman was down before it cracked. In a swift movement Darwyn stood, swinging his bow from one shoulder and notching an arrow, loosing it toward the last standing opponent and following it with a second.

Barker's Eva blasted twice, and their PDAs alerted them that another squad had fallen.

Wraith wasted no time, tugging a shield cell from her pack and yanking the lever.

"Recharging shields."

"Roger."

"Ditto."

She shook the adrenaline from her arms and reloaded as she marched over to the dead. Regulars in their roster, no Elites.

"Good job, guys." she commended as she tipped one pack over the ground in the fastest way to sweep it for anything useful.

"Good looking out." Barker answered her, and she flashed him a brief look of thanks.

"That disco ball sure is somethin'." Darwyn whistled as he too emptied a pack over the ground.

Barker's hum was curt, but it was something. Wraith was pleased to note the animosity from earlier seemed faded and when Darwyn met her eye she smiled faintly, nodding in approval. He huffed a grin and turned back to his loot.

As they were finishing up, another beep.

"Ring." she said, unnecessarily.

"Runoff?" Darwyn suggested as they swung their gear over shoulders and made for the closest route out towards the new ring placement.

"Wise." Barker agreed, and though Wraith ignored the comically raised eyebrows Darwyn shot her when their third wasn't looking, she was reassured that perhaps a sense of cohesion could be salvaged well enough to win.


	23. Chapter 23

_Chapter Twenty Three_

"Two teams in Airbase."

Wraith raised her head from the loot bin she was picking over and craned her neck to see the man on the roof of the tower-like building, flat against the glass panels as he peered down his scope.

"Can you see who?"

While it wasn't imperative that she keep track of every Elite in the Games, knowing one was near could sway Wraith's plans and was often useful information.

"Not clearly."

Wraith was considering climbing herself to see if there was anything she could glean, particularly when she was probably more familiar with the gait and gestures of the other Elites, when Darwyn's voice crackled over the comm-line too.

"There's a third outside Bunker. Dunno if they're watching another team or what, they're sitting in the open. Like right outside the doors."

Wraith paused and glanced up, eying the tunnel mere feet from her position.

"Whole team?"

"Mmm, can't see the others. Loner by the looks of it. I actually have a pretty good shot on-"

"Don't take it."

"What? Alright, he's-"

"You sure he's on his own?" she queried, shifting her gun into her hands.

"Yeah."

"What's he doing?"

She crept over the uneven tarry ground towards the yellow pipe. There was a pause. Before Darwyn's voice came again, confusion beginning to taint with suspicion.

"Just sitting there. Right in the corner, all he's done is check his rifle over."

"Moved position at all?"

"Nope."

"Doors open?"

"Nope."

"Keep your eyes towards Pit." she decided, ducking into the tunnel.

"Roger."

Wraith rounded the mouth of the pipe and swept her gaze across the empty sands, but the land was empty. The bins by the oasis and the Respawn beacon were still locked tight, something they'd agreed to leave in case it came in handy for cornering an enemy squad later. She was looking off towards the giant Bunker doors when the Voice came to her.

_You're in their sights._

She slammed back against the tunnel wall.

"Someone's got eyes on me here," she relayed, peering out the tunnel and gauging the angle. If she was safe as she was, it was definitely between Bunker and Pit.

"The teams at Airbase are fighting." Barker updated them.

"We're about to have a fight of our own." she answered, slinking back into the Runoff compound and considering scaling the wall.

Six teams were still in play, so that left two unaccounted for, if one was headed for them and two were duking it out in Airbase. Between the seemingly moronic loner hiding in the open outside Bunker and the fact that they had the final Arena beacon, Wraith had a good guess of who was on their way.

She ran under the structure on a whim, wheeling around the Northmost building to peer at the Ring, between them and slums. There, at the very edge, it was. How she'd missed the telltale sound she didn't know, and her heart started racing with adrenaline. She checked the safety was off her rifle and raised it, backing from the round open ground floor behind the nearest door.

"There's a zipline-"

A sniper shot cut her off and she whirled, catching sight of the MRVN unit swinging around in an impressive display from one of the open rooftops and soaring over the fence.

Darwyn.

"Shit! Pathfinder!"

The sniper cracked again, and then again, and Barker gave a bleak chuckle.

"One down."

Darwyn breathed a thanks, and Wraith could only surmise that their light specialist had somehow interfered with the robot's attempt to sneak up on the beacon Darwyn was lying right above.

"Did he get the beacon off?" Wraith called, racing back to the pipe.

"Don't know!"

There, by the oasis, the shining blue robot was sprawled, gathering himself into a small space as she reached the pipe mouth, his knockdown shield sparkling up around him. Purple, hardly worth the wasted ammo. Wraith drew back her arm and lobbed a grenade.

_Get back!_

Bullets bit into the plastic around her as she retreated.

"Darwyn?"

"Pit mouth." Barker answered before he could, "We have to be quick, the-"

The shot rang across the sand to them, as her squadmate toppled from his perch.

"Shit!" Darwyn yelped.

Wraith glanced back, unwilling to take her eye from the yellow tunnel in case Mirage thought it was a good idea to rush them while they were caught off guard.

"Airbase?"

"So it would seem."

Great.

Ping. Five squads. Good to know.

Wraith backed up to the nearest door, slamming it closed behind her and taking the hipline inside, racing for a window.

"Barker?" she hissed, finding Pathfinder right where he'd been, still no sign of his shadow.

"I'm alright. Recharging shields now."

Wraith checked her watch.

"Wait out the Ring?" she queried, "Move out?"

The direction the burning wall of the ring moved would either grace them or damn them, for there was a lot of open ground inside it still. A door opened and closed as Barker got himself inside. Neither answered her, and she debated herself.

"Darwyn, you still got eyes on Pit? What's going on?"

"Nothing." he answered, voice tight, "Pathfinder moved out of sight behind that loot bin, but I haven't seen… Wait…"

"What?" she barked.

"What the fuck?"

She waited, a tremor running down her spine at the sudden shift in his tone.

"He's back up!" Barker yelled, just as the sound of his grappling hook confirmed it.

"What-"

Wraith cursed at Darwyn's cry.

"Mirage." she barked. "His fucking _cloak_."

"Awh shit, I-"

"The pipe!"

Wraith dropped back down into the water, swinging herself back onto the ground floor in a single move. She elbowed open the door and shot for the first figure she saw, hearing the woman's yell as she dove behind the orange lid of the bin. Wraith tossed a grenade and pulled shut her door to reload.

"Legend behind the pipe bin." she notified her squad, "Her shields are low, but-"

_Behind you_.

In the same heartbeat a door opened and Wraith spun, her rifle growling as she shot without taking aim. He disappeared back out the door, but his laugh was a giveaway and Wraith's blood chilled.

"We got another team!" she yelled, grabbing for the zipline, "Octane behind my building!"

She heard the pop and crackle of Barker's smallest flash bangs, and then suddenly everything was chaos. Doors were knocked open as she raced across the walkway between buildings, nearly punching Darwyn when he dropped from a hole in the roof to land just beside her.

"Team here." Barker called, "Bloodhound."

"Fuck." Wraith spat, leading Darwyn down the stairs to meet with him, the tracker had dropped with an all-Elite team, "Bangalore and Lifeline could be-"

_Watch out!_

Wraith threw out her arm on the bottom step, crashing into Darwyn's shoulder as he ran past her, almost taking her down with him. Sparks flew around the stairwell as Wraith scrambled backwards and she was phasing between he worlds before the archer hollered in pain. She raised her gun to return the fire that peppered the stairs as her squadmate turned to chase her up them. Her shields pinged and flickered.

Fuck. She dropped a grenade on the stairs and dragged Darwyn to his feet. They raced back along the way they'd come.

"Out." she said to him as she took hold of the rope with one hand and slid down.

Her toes hit the ground and she raced for the first door, spinning on her heel and racing through the gunfire towards the wall. The archer was hot on her heels.

"Is Airbase clear?" she hollered as she tucked herself against the rock and popped a shield cell, her own eyes unable to see any figures down the way.

"Seems to be." Barker answered.

Darwyn covered her while she filled her shields, and they stared across the compound at the people who seemed not to see them, three enemy teams battling in the small outside space. Barker was perched on the rooftop again, filling his own shields. He looked up as Wraith's gaze found him, and he grimaced.

"I'm gonna drop a hole." she said as she reloaded her gun, looking between them, "It's gonna be right at the ground in front of you." she nodded to Barker, turned to their third, "You ready?"

Darwyn nodded, notching an arrow in his bow and taking aim at the open space. Wraith steeled herself and ran. When she hit the wall she tore open the air and turned heel, retracing her steps halfway and swerving for the wall, swinging herself up and scaling the fence, wasting no time in dropping to the sand and taking off towards the Airbase.

The pain grew too much and she dropped out, continuing to run while holding open the Void. One tug. Two. She collapsed it.

And took a shot right in the back.


	24. Chapter 24

_Chapter Twenty Four_

The sand rose to meet Wraith hard as she sprawled, wincing when her shield splintered. She spat out a mouthful of dirt and flipped onto her back, returning fire. Barker lobbed a light grenade, focusing fire with her on the opponent who had followed them. In the back of her head, Wraith cursed that she'd aided an enemy instead of her squad.

Blinded by the grenade at his feet, Mirage clumsily tossed a grenade of his own. It landed wide, far past Barker on her right.

Beneath their combined fire, Mirage's Gold shield eventually cracked, and the Trickster hit the ground. Wraith was on her feet by then, dragging out a shield cell right there in the open because they didn't have any time before-

_You're in their sights!_

A Scout shot pierced her chest _just_ as the cell was popping, and for the second time in as many minutes, Wraith was sprawled on the sands.

"Fuck!" she yelled to release the pain that flashed like fire, watching helplessly as the MRVN unit turned his fire on her squadmate.

Where was Darwyn?

"Pinned!" came the reply to the question she didn't know she'd cursed out loud, and Wraith's heart sank a little.

They were going down, she knew it. And she was losing to _Mirage_.

She'd never live this down. As Pathfinder and Barker traded fire, dancing left and right with the toxic anticipation rising steadily in Wraith's veins, her PDA pinged.

Four squads.

Four squads left and she was in the dirt, bleeding out and watching her teammate slowly losing a fight through wavering vision. She groaned as a wave of pain washed through her again, struggling to draw a full breath when every twitch agitated the hole in her upper chest. It was close to her heart, she realised as she clenched her fingers over it, wondering if he'd pierced a lung.

A wicked shot. Pathfinder's a wicked shot.

A hysterical sound swarmed up her throat but she clamped her mouth shut and pressed her eyes shut tight to clear the blurring. Come on, Barker. Come _on_!

Like her words had been heard, the light specialist went down, his knockdown shield buzzing to life. Wraith hadn't even activated hers, squirming backwards initially but succumbing a little to the agony bleeding through her chest, watching the loss that was arriving for her. Pathfinder turned his head her way, and met her eye. Despite the distance she'd put between them and the continuing roar of gunfire from the compound, she heard his words as clear as if she were poached into his comm-line.

"This is unlucky, friend. If you were on my team, you would be happy about this."

She fought the urge to roll her eyes as he cocked his gun.

As he took aim, to the surprise of them all, Pathfinder lit up. Flames crackled from his monitor and he spasmed, twisting partly around before hitting the ground, engulfed in sudden, bizarre fire. Wraith's first hazy thought was a thermite grenade, somehow, his shield must have cracked as he downed Barker. But the fire was _inside_ his monitor. She could see it licking out into the air as he scrambled on the ground.

And then she saw the protruding edge.

Wraith stared at the man who stood on the cement wall, one arm cocked awkwardly upwards over the metal fencing, fingers empty as he met her eye over the fire, chest heaving. Somewhere to her right, a dark and half-delirious laugh emanated.

Darwyn's lips stretched into a grin as he lowered the bow, his eyes gleaming bright behind his goggles as he hopped down. As he passed Mirage and kicked the trickster's gun out of reach, he threw him a wink. It was a pity Wraith was in so much pain, for Mirage's responding expression was more than amusing.

The archer made quick work of getting her back on her feet, the fast-working painkillers a blessed relief. Mirage was talking, low and fast, and Wraith looked off towards the gunfire still raging in Runoff. Their third, the woman whose shields Wraith had all but cracked in the tunnel pipe, was clearly faring better than her squadmates.

Her shields filled, she slid another needle under her skin as Darwyn hauled their third back on his feet.

"Impressive." Barker murmured as he too sorted his shields, the three of them turning to the downed Elites.

"Yeah, if shooting a guy in the back is impressive." Mirage called out, voice laced with a pain he was trying to hide and managing to sound somewhat cocky.

Before Wraith could point out that that was precisely what he'd done to her, Darwyn's amused voice interrupted her.

"I figured I'd learn from the best, right?"

To his credit, Mirage managed to roll his eyes pretty dramatically for someone bleeding out. Wraith pulled out her pistol as she reached him and made his death quick and clean, ensuring Barker gave Pathfinder the same. There was no need to draw out a kill when you'd bested another legend in combat. She believed there was an unnecessary cruelty in prolonging the pain.

"In another time, another place, maybe you killed me." she allowed, reloading her weapon, "But not this time."

~.~

"Careful." she whispered, peering around the high wall.

They'd made fast work of raiding the two Elites' well-stocked packs and high-tailing it out of the area. While the gunfire had died off momentarily before starting up again, Wraith wasn't sure that they could assume the fourth team had arrived in Runoff. They were still waiting on that next alert, surprised that the newcomer Mirage and Pathfinder had been assigned had somehow survived. Particularly when the small compound now contained some big names.

If she was holding them off still, Wraith's squad might be about to walk into a team who had had plenty of time to secure themselves good vantage points to defend this, the inevitable next ring.

"What you thinking?" Darwyn answered, absently sweeping the runways through his scope.

"She's thinking we might not be the first ones here." Barker answered for her.

Darwyn half-turned in surprise when Wraith looked back to confirm, his gaze flickering to his wrist.

"Oh." he said softly as it dawned on him, "_Oh_."

Wraith recognised the expression as he glanced back towards Runoff. To hold off a full squad on your own was impressive enough, but to be holding off three of the best on the Elite roster was a notable feat.

"Better to make use of the time we have." Barker spoke again, and Wraith turned her attention back to the building they were rounding.

"Should one of us head round the other side?"

Wraith shook her head.

"Not this late. We stick together, we don't know who we're up against. Things could get messy."

Darwyn frowned but nodded. Wraith readied her gun. Better now than never. She slunk up along the wall, her pace swift and silent, pressing her back against the corner and ducking her head around to shove open the closed door, pulling back fast in case someone waited inside.

Adrenaline thrummed as the ring countdown started again. Two minutes, and it'd be moving, forcing whoever was left alive in Runoff their way. Wraith wanted to be in a position to challenge them when they got there. She slipped around into the small room, sweeping the corner and reaching for the tiny room door, more a cupboard than anything, when she heard three sounds in the same instant.

The air-blast crackle of a Respawn beacon being activated. Her head turned automatically to the door to her left, out towards the sand, as her head raced through possibilities.

As she pushed the door, a dreadful and all-too-recognisable hiss. As she leapt back to spin away, the cry of a rifle; like the call of a wild bird, knocking Barker to the floor with its impact. Darwyn dove for the doors, slamming them shut in time to block a second shot. Barker hauled himself to his feet and grabbed a shield cell, winded but otherwise no worse for wear.

And then of course, with naught but a heartbeat for Wraith to realise how foolish she'd been, the door behind them opened and a heavy object landed between them. Dread pooled in her gut as she grabbed desperately for the edges of the air.

"Get the door!" she yelled as the open one swung closed, already gagging as she backed away from the vicious green gas exploding around them.

"The sniper-"

"The door!"

Barker shoved Darwyn aside and threw open the door as the Void slid around Wraith like a burning stream, and she pounced through.

There was little choice, as she made her snap fire decision, launching herself over the balcony towards the sniper on the runway and racing towards the abandoned jumpship, gritting her teeth against the pain and the screaming of the gunfire. She tumbled at the ship mouth, hauling out her gun and spinning around the outside, thankful that the woman scrambling to switch weapons was on her own.

Wraith pushed her, knocking her down onto the tarred runway, firing at her while dancing from the lashing feet that could send her over, dodging the peacekeeper fire as her opponent found her bearings. She felt the tug of the Voidstream and then, as her clip emptied, the woman screamed as she was engulfed, somehow avoiding the very edge of the island as she spasmed, flailing before dropping silently to the ground.

Wraith had seen it all, in the Games, but as she pressed her back against the furthest end of the disused jumpship, she took a second to clear her nose of the lingering green gas and the smell of burning flesh. An uneasy ghost whispered up her spine.

"You good?" her comm-line crackled and she coughed.

"Yeah. Barker?"

Radio silence, and Wraith's eyes automatically flashed to his healthy green marker on her wrist. No response to Darwyn's query either, and Wraith was already heading for the portal still burning away at her energy reserves.

Silence was a message just as clear as speech.

As the portal yanked her back into the doorway of the room Caustic had made so dangerous, Wraith slammed bodily into someone stepping into the room. It was incredibly bad timing, a one-in-a-million collision that sent her sprawling onto the floor, her pistol in her hands as she took aim.

"Darwyn stay there." she barked as she pulled the trigger.

His shield sang as her shots dinged, and he scrabbled backwards around the doorframe. The archer's voice was in her ears but she was too busy to hear him.

"Turned tables, huh?" a voice laughed as Wraith found her feet and fled the still-gassed room through the other door.

"Trickster's back up." she relayed as she took a fresh breath, shaking her head to clear it of the faint, woozy sensation that she so hated from the Doctor's poison.

"I got that death box covered." Darwyn alerted her, "Setting up shop."

Okay. So they'd replaced the sniper with their own. Hopefully, that would aid them. Wraith's muscles sagged in relief as she let the portal fall, heat and pain lancing up and down her spine almost overwhelmingly. She raced the length of the Airbase building, following the green alert of Barker on her display and listening to the new shots ringing out.

"I could use assistance."

"I'm on my way. Caustic?"

"And company." Barker's voice was strained, distracted, as he traded fire.

Wraith hopped the fence and ran along the abandoned vehicles, skidding down the long ramp as the scene opened up before her. She tugged a grenade from a pocket and halted long enough to estimate the arc, curving it neatly behind the crate where someone stood. When they darted from cover to get away, a clear cry rang across the whole base, followed swiftly by a second.

"Dead on the _ground_." Darwyn chirped in her ear as she continued her run.

"Just Caustic to go." she concluded, eying the not-so-distant moving ring.

In a moment or so, this side of Airbase would be all but lost to it, and she didn't want her team spread too thin when that happened.


	25. Chapter 25

_Chapter Twenty Five_

Wraith covered her mouth, dizzy from the toxic fumes. She fought the urge to rid herself of the painful nausea in her gut. She didn't have time to throw up. Her gorge rose all the same as she rushed to the edges of the green smoke.

Barker had crawled behind a crate, leaving a bloodtrail behind him. Her ears were full of his retching as she reached him, and she fought the urge to mute her comms against the echo. So late in the game, it could be suicide.

"Darwyn, how we doing on the Runoff teams?" she rasped, leaning over their light specialist as she aided him in patching his wounds.

The stink of the gas was thick and cloying even here, rising from their clothes and burning her nose. Safely behind goggles, at least her eyes were clear.

"They're coming." was the tense reply, "I don't like this position much anymore."

"Get off the runway." Barker wheezed, spitting to the side as he yanked the cap from a syringe.

Wraith took it from him with nimble fingers, pushing a shield cell into his hands instead. His watery blue eyes met hers, and for a second he looked smaller without the confidence he'd been wearing so self-assuredly since they'd met. She slid the needle into his thigh and looked away.

As the cylinder emptied, a chilling whistling sounded from their right. A familiar creature in Wraith's gut rose in premonition. She couldn't help but peer around the crate and she watched, dismayed, as the artillery shells fell.

"Shit." she breathed, her gaze finding Darwyn as he dashed like a rabbit, zig-zagging between the deadly explosives while they primed.

_Get down._

Wraith wavered, drawing back but unable to hide completely, watching as the first wave shook the ground, the blasts deafening. Darwyn disappeared in clouds of black smoke, and Wraith held her breath.

_Someone has a shot on you!_

Right at the edge of the minefield Bangalore had created, the archer placed an unlucky foot and was blown forward into the wall, crumpling to the ground. Wraith whipped behind the crate again, lips pressing a thin line as the sound of a Devotion sang over the last of the explosions.

Her banner pinged. She was down a squad member.

"Fuck." Barker spat.

Wraith checked her Flatline was loaded and ready to go as she counted in her head to steady her breath. Adrenaline was flooding her veins in preparation. A battle-calm settled over her mind as she breathed.

Gunfire started up where Darwyn had died. The ring halted, mere feet away from her. Three teams. At most, six people stood between her and victory. The timer on her wrist was already counting till the next ring would force them together. Bangalore's artillery wouldn't an option again, if Wraith could help it. She listened to the Devotion kick up, the blast of a shotgun, the growl of something else. Prowler, Hemlok.

She met Barker's eye as he crouched besides her, his goggles wiped mostly clean of blood. Wraith touched her own on reflex, still secure over her eyes.

"How we doing on your cool down timers?" she muttered, gaze drifting as she listened more intently to the fight going down than the man beside her.

"All present and correct."

Her mind swayed as she visualised the space they were about to cross, the abandoned vehicles, the walls that would give them cover.

A death ping from her banner. Her skin itched and burned to be sitting still, but if they could just wait it out, if they could wait until one team was knocked out, or both were left weakened, she could snatch that advantage and secure a swifter win.

Ping.

Wraith drew a breath. The ring counter hit 60 seconds.

"We should move."

Wraith's eyes flickered to the squadmate at her side, his gun ready. But there was a strange calm about him, a familiar calm, and her nerves were marginally soothed. There was no doubt reason Darwyn had taken note of Barker's rise as he too was climbing the leader board rosters.

The best of Legends knew that sliver of calm. The difference between a panicked scrabble and a precise movement.

"With the ring." she whispered back.

A curt, sharp nod.

45.

Wraith's heartbeat picked up. She shifted up onto the balls of her feet where she crouched. Wound like a spring, the knowledge of what was coming was soothing on her tired nerves. She was fighting for her life. That came to her as easily as breathing.

25.

She flexed her fingers, flat against the cooling body of her Flatline. Barker palmed an orb into one hand, bouncing it once in his palm, his expression set.

15.

Wraith shifted her weight to her back foot.

8.

The gunfire erratic, smattering. Someone was losing.

3.

The ring buzzed, like an engine revving.

2.

Barker hefted his sniper in hand.

1.

Wraith pounced.

Like an arrow she led the ring, feet pounding, blood singing with battle. She swerved, putting the first wall between them. A shot rang out but it was wide. They hit the second wall, backs flat against it as Barker drew back his arm and loosed the grenade, hand a blur as he drew out another, larger, glowing. It landed in the centre of fire and sounded it's odd, mechanical cry as it exploded.

Before the voices reached her ears Wraith was firing, her Flatline hungry and loud in her hands. A purple shield cracked in the first clip, before the yelling really started.

"Wraith's still up!"

Lifeline's call was startled and laced with a familiar fear, but Wraith bared her teeth and didn't stop. The Medic was down and out a half-clip later, and when she turned her gun on Bangalore, stepping into the open to keep her crosshairs on the soldier, Barker had already chipped away at her Gold with the hard-hitting sniper rounds.

Wraith drew out an arc star, snapping her hand back to gauge the angle, and was surprised by the jarring flash of pain when it was shot straight out of her fingers. She hissed and drew back, slipping between the worlds as her blood rushed startled through her limbs, making her light-headed. Another sniper crack and then the Havoc Barker had traded out in Runoff, covering her back.

She slammed into the wall and almost dropped the syringe with the blood gushing from her hand. She kept track of the gunfire, stabbing herself harshly with the needle and watching it impatiently drain.

She threw it to release the building tension in her shoulders, gripping her gun again with slippery fingers, reloading.

"The robot is down."

Wraith's head rushed the maths easily. Lifeline, out. Pathfinder down. Two pings, two deaths. Either they were down to one enemy team, a stolen glance at her wrist said no, or-

Of course. Who else.

Wraith clenched her jaw as a flicker of a smile crossed her lips, ready to return the favour for her trip in the sands.

The arc star clipped the soldier's ankles when Wraith risked the corner. Her shields were down but she was in cover.

"Get Pathfinder out." she barked as she move up, slamming behind an old truck, "We don't need him getting help."

She checked her corner, firing towards the soldier's space. With that armour her shield cells would so little time. Time Wraith could ill afford. As she slid another magazine into her rifle, Wraith heard Barker's cry out. The light specialist fell to the ground awkwardly behind cover.

"Refilling shields!" he yelled.

Another sniper shot bit the concrete by his foot and he twisted further back. So someone had high ground. Fuck.

_Grenade!_

Wraith bit her lip at the ragged burn of the Void as she tumbled into it, losing her footing as the world exploded and jarring her knees as she fell. Her grip slipped but she held on, feeling the gunfire rattling her very core as it warped around her.

Breathing was blinding pain. She'd spent too much time in the Voidstream already today and the sun was barely cresting the horizon, painting this final battle in warm gold. She forced herself to her feet, a long and painful breath in. The ring began moving and she heard Barker moving too. She had nowhere to go but forward.

She threw herself forwards, knowing the crate was too far away, that she wouldn't-

The Void slipped from her fingers as her muscles spasmed, and she grit her teeth as it ached. She just had to get a little further. With all the pain it was hard to keep track of the booming gunfire as she skidded left and right through it.

She slid on her knees to safety, her shields chunked, and tore her pack open for a shield cell. Gunfire outlined her and she pressed herself small as she could and-

Bangalore stepped in front of her as her hands were full, and she threw herself to one side. The unfinished cell fell from her hands and rolled away as she snatched up her Flatline. The shotgun hit her hard enough in the chest to take what was left of her armour, knocking her down. Her wrists burned too much for the Void to help her. She couldn't get an handle on it.

Fuck. This was it, this was it.

As the soldier pumped the barrel back and levelled it again, the echoed crack of a sniper sounded.

Right before Wraith, Bangalore crumpled. She hit the ground hard, clawing at her neck as blood flooded down her chest. Wraith grabbed for the shotgun fast and confirmed the kill. The haunted panic in the soldier's eyes faded as she died.

Wraith turned her face and spat out the bile that rose to her tongue. She dumped the shotgun and reached for the runaway shield cell.

"Bangalore out." she managed to articulate, as her PDA pinged.

Two teams.

Just them and him. Possibly Pathfinder too, if the Trickster had gotten the MRVN unit back on his feet while they dealt with Bangalore.

Silence greeted her ears. She noticed two things at once.

Her wrist showed no markers. And there was a soft humming in the quiet. The hum of a cell.

Wraith was wrong-footed to find that she'd lost him without even registering it. It was like ice, rushing up from her toes to choke her. She clutched her Flatline close to her heaving chest and listened to the pop.

What felt like a long moment of silence followed. The threatening buzz of the ring sounded loud. The water lapped far below, off the edges of the map. Her own breathing sounded loud, unbearably loud. Anxious energy wound like vines up her arms.

She fought the urge to move, listening so intently that the rustle of the breeze made her jump. The timer on her wrist counted down continuously. The ring was about to get real small if nobody moved first.

Where were they?

Mirage, it had to be Mirage. Somehow she knew it couldn't be anyone else, the foreign thought unnerving as it breathed to her across the Void.

The longer the silence ticked on, the heavier her tongue got. The air tasted like smoke, burning its way down her throat and into her lungs. A bruise on her thigh ached irritably. Still she held, still and quiet. Listening. Waiting.

"Think I can win this?"

Wraith sprang over the crate like a jack-in-the-box, Flatline growling out as though on its own. He yelped, fell, and as she slid the empty clip out, he groaned.

"No." she answered crisply, as her eyes found him on the ground.

She slammed the new clip in and levelled the gun.

"You got a Gold?"

The words came out of her mouth before she knew they existed, leaving her unsure they were even hers, and Mirage's expression flickered with pain and confusion as she shook herself and pulled the trigger.

The Victory music was harsh and loud after the quiet, and Wraith dropped the Flatline with a wince. She stumbled over to the nearest wall and bent double, finally emptying the lingering green poison from her system.


	26. Chapter 26

_Chapter Twenty Six_

She winced at the noise level in the darkened bar, letting the heavy door swing shut behind her. The initial post-game euphoria was worse, she knew, and by this late in the day was starting to settle down. Many of the Elites chose to drink later for that reason, more likely to be left - relatively - alone.

She found their table easily, fighting down the urge to slip away before they saw her, for the large round table was busy. First to see her, Barker raised his hand a few inches from his glass, and nodded to her.

Wraith forced her mouth to smile.

"Wraith!"

Fresh from the MedBay and glowing with both victory and what Wraith guessed was a substantial amount to drink, Darwyn noted the gesture and turned to greet her with a broad smile, shuffling into the Medic beside him as he made room for her on the booth bench.

Her butt was barely in her seat before a glass appeared in front of her, and the archer poured her a measure from one of the bottles cluttered in the table's centre. She gave him a nod and as she took a mouthful of the burning spirit, she swept the table with her gaze.

Beside Darwyn, Lifeline and Bangalore, a quiet smile from Bloodhound. Octane, making most of the noise at the table and probably the room, telling Pathfinder some tale or other, both of them laughing. Beside the robot and opposite Wraith, Barker sipped from his glass as he listened, looking almost as out-of-place as she felt.

She didn't feel guilty at the small relief of the missing Trickster. However, it did bother her slightly that she noted his absence, as mere months ago it wouldn't have crossed her mind to register it. Despite the amount of her time she now spent wishing he'd disappear, his presence she'd come to expect.

"Good to see you." Bangalore murmured, lips lifting in a half-smile when Wraith met her eye, "Was one helluva game."

"I'll say!" Octane laughed, turning excitably, "I was watching in thee Medical Wing. I thought 'e might've had you at the end, compadre."

Barker snorted a chuckle, sipping from his glass.

"Nah!" Darwyn called over the other's replies, slapping Wraith on the back with a gleeful grin, "Our Wraith had him."

Lifeline, giddy from the Game high and drunker than any of the others, laughed so hard at Wraith's wince that she knocked her drink over. The table descended into yelps as people scrambled to avoid getting soaked as the rum sloshed all over the tabletop, but Lifeline could do nothing but laugh more, catching sight of Octane's taunting grin and giggling more.

When everything had settled and an amused member of the bar staff had brought them sufficient cloths to dry the mess, Lifeline was still wiping tears from her eyes.

"Fo'real," she chuckled, heaving in a breath and turning her grin on Wraith, "Tha was some nice work. Ya got me, _again_."

Wraith shifted as the weak smile touched her face.

"Maybe you're too slow." she murmured in reply as she lifted her glass, gaze flickering to Octane when he loosed a howling laugh.

"Yo're too slow, amigo! Betta get _good_!"

Lifeline chucked a handful of peanuts at him, but his laugh was not dissuaded.

"It was a good fight." Banagalore hummed, rolling her eyes between them at their antics.

"It vas." Bloodhound nodded in agreement, eyes catching Wraith's across the table, "Mirage vas foolish to speak."

Her mouth twitched as she agreed, for of course the tracker had caught how closely she'd been listening, at the end.

"Just a pity that girl got a lucky shot on you."

Bloodhound nodded at the soldier's words, smiling softly.

"She vas a vorthy opponent. De Gods had blessed her."

Pathfinder's screen brightened, and he nodded.

"She was a very good fighter." he agreed brightly, "Were it not for her quick thinking, Mirage and I would not have been able to re-join the battle and claim second place."

"We thought the same thing, didn't we?" Darwyn looked between his former squad mates as he leaned forward, "Dead impressive, holding off so many of you the way she did."

"Caught us by suhprise." Lifeline chuckled, re-filling the glasses she could reach, "We'll see her again, I betcha."

"I don' want herr on my squad." Octane chuckled, "No offence. But a defender? Pssshh. Yo gotta be fast in thee Games, or you get left behind."

The conversation quickly devolved as the occupants bickered and tossed peanuts at each other. Wraith fell back into her own head as it continued, trying her best to ignore the pressure in her chest at being so surrounded, focusing instead on analysing how the sound and atmosphere of the table was more pleasant than she'd expected when she'd agreed to join them for a while.

It wasn't as if she never socialised. She did, more often than she'd like, really. But it had been a while since she'd had her arm twisted into drinking with them.

"Yeah," Darwyn was saying, his elbow bumping into Wraith as he took a bottle from the table and uncapped it, "where _is_ Mirage? I woulda thought he was the type to celebrate."

Octane's chuckle turned leering as he winked at Lifeline. The Medic chuckled, and grinned.

"'e's busy, ya know? Likes to cel-a-brate in his own way."

Wraith huffed a laugh as Darwyn's face grew puzzled, the other Elites chuckling with her. Pathfinder, in his usual manner, flashed a love heart across his screen.

"He is engaging in the company of a young lady." he recited, seeming pleased when everyone laughed, "Which is what I think is his code for sexual relations."

The table dissolved into fits of giggles at the statement declared so brightly, and Darwyn's face took on a mild pink sheen.

"He moves _fast_, huh?"

Octane's grin was devilish when he turned it on the archer. Bangalore rolled her eyes even as the speedster spoke, anticipating, no doubt, what he was going to say. His eyes trailed purposefully down the new guy's face and back, and he winked.

"Not as fast as _me_, amigo."

Wraith felt the archer shift reflexively at the faint trace of boldness in his tone, stealing further into her personal space, and she shot Octane an exasperated glance as the rest of the table laughed. Barker, she noted, seemed to have relaxed somewhat. Amusement buoyed her slightly.

"Let them get comfortable before you starting chatting them up, would you?" she retorted, raising an eyebrow.

Darwyn pushed her gently with a spluttered denial, shooting Barker a glare when he commented on what a pair they'd make. Wraith smirked softly in the sound of continued laughter as she downed the contents in her glass and let Lifeline refill it, feeling that perhaps it had been worth swallowing the urge to be alone, to indulge just a little in the presence of people who might understand the need to keep their heads busy while the battle finally eased from their blood.


	27. Chapter 27

_Chapter Twenty Seven_

She scribbled her name across the space in the randoms column, watching it glow as it became computer-data joining the blink of the other locked-in solo entries. She wasn't sure why her eyes wandered, or found that Mirage and Pathfinder's names glowed softly in the middle column. Something whispered too quietly for her to hear, and a sense of uneasy premonition fluttered like a breeze over her skin.

"Heyy, that time again, huh?"

Wraith turned toward him, the edge of her mouth curving challengingly to hide the fact that he'd startled her from her thoughts. The grin grew as he stepped up beside her to put his own mark down.

"I look forward to racing you to the kill." was all she said in answer as she passed him by.

Octane hollered delightedly behind her, laughing like the mad.

"What a woman," he appraised, as he watched her disappear from view, "what a _woman_."

~.~

In the three weeks since their win, she'd been shadowed on and off by the archer. While not something that regularly occurred, - typically new faces learned fast to avoid Wraith, even if they won together - it had happened before, and she had initially tried to brush him off gently. He was alright, friendly when he slid into her booth without invitation at mealtimes, following Lifeline and Bangalore around like an eager puppy often too.

But after the first few days, Wraith realised that the others had taken a liking to him. Or, more specifically, they hadn't closed ranks against him like they usually did with strangers. The Elites were all old hands at the Games, and earning a place in their ranks was an honour, and a task. To say Darwyn had only one game so far on their roster made it fairly unusual that they'd put up with his presence.

Hell, when Mirage first made it onto their radar they'd all but kicked him from their table the first time he'd tried to join, and he'd latched onto Pathfinder fairly soon after. Octane had only had a marginally easier time lately, but his history with Lifeline was probably part of that. Wraith knew very little beyond what interactions she'd picked up on and the occasional references either made to past events, but he too had given the core Elites a fairly wide berth for the most part.

The other thing was that he was a fairly mellow personality, which struck a chord with the two women who most often accompanied Wraith, and as such was often there when they joined her at mealtimes. When they disappeared on the second week, Wraith ate alone more often. Darwyn had hung around the facility the entire time, and did join her several times, but to her relief he'd kept conversation to a minimum and given her space when she left.

While she hadn't been approached by either of her previous squad for a team-up, it surprised Wraith to realise that she wouldn't be unhappy to be assigned them both again in the name of returning Champions. They'd had a rocky start and taken time to find a passable rhythm, but she was sure that with a little work they could be a formidable duo. She was almost tempted to tell them that. Or tell Darwyn, at least, who seemed the most laid-back of the two.

_Maybe you should rethink your stance on repeating squad choices._

Wraith almost jumped when the whisper sounded loudly in her ear, so loudly in fact that were she not leaning back against the familiar metal wall she'd have turned her head expecting someone to be standing right behind her, breathing down her neck.

She shook her head. No. The rule was there for a reason. A chosen squad, on a regular basis, was an intimacy she didn't need clouding her ability to adapt in the Arena. The unknown kept her alert, kept her fighting, kept her… strong.

_Safe_.

She frowned, uncomfortable at the suggestion. Well, perhaps. Closeness was a weakness she could ill afford. But to call it a matter of _safety_…

As the PDA beeped energetically and dragged her from her head, she got to her feet and pulled up the faces of her assignment. No more time for introspection. She had a Game to win. She thumbed the screen as she paced toward the crowd, yet somehow she knew before the screen lit.

She froze mid-step as the strange shiver iced her spine, catching her balance in surprise.

Great.

As she made her way towards the opening doors of the dropship, she shoved the device back into place with the irrational fear that her clenched grip might damage it somehow.

"Hello, friend!"

She raised the fingers of one hand in greeting, resigning herself to the reminder that the fates cared little for her plans.

Mirage's grin was wide and obnoxious as she came to a stop between them, and Wraith was already dreading the many, many times she was going to have to swallow the urge to tell him to shut up.

"What are the odds?" was his cocky greeting, and Wraith fought down the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose between her fingers.

She gave a noncommittal hum in reply before Pathfinder listed off the statistics of such an occurrence, which Wraith already knew and would bet Mirage did too. She stepped onto the ship with them while they chatted far too loudly, dread in her gut. The last time they'd worked together hadn't gone great, and Wraith didn't want to face the reanimation process again so soon, thank you very much. It had been a painfully blunt reminder as it was.

She would survive this one, no matter what it took. And if that meant letting Mirage pick fights and leaving him to it, then…

Wraith scowled to herself at the knowledge she'd probably not actually go through with abandoning her team. Not when they were Elites, and competent. (For the most part.)

"_Oh_ yeah," Mirage crowed when the device on his wrist lit up, "master of the jump, right here."

She nodded when he glanced her way, and Pathfinder began suggesting good areas to drop into based on his calculations of the likelihood of good gear compared to recent games, but Wraith tuned him out for the most part as the battle began to shake away in her blood. The Voices were shifting from sleepy into ready, their whispers quieting while the mood on the ship blended into alert.

The laughter faded, and what stayed sounded a little strained. Octane was mouthing off somewhere at the fast end, and someone else was growing rowdy in response, but she ignored it. If they wanted to start a fight on the dropship and cause potential trouble for themselves, that was their prerogative. Hers was getting into the right mindset to hit the ground running, to get herself a gun, and to keep her team alive.

Mirage was drawing things from his pockets andWraith watched him closely, wary of the metal band he began clipping around their teammate's wrist. When he was done he turned to her and pulled another band from his pocket with an eager grin.

"It'll help," he promised cryptically, "you'll see. Just wait."

She hesitated, but her gut told her it was unlikely he'd break the rules and bring uncleared gear on board. He was an idiot, but he wasn't _stupid_. And he was bound to know she'd kill him if he roped her into trouble with him. A disqualification, even just a single one by association, could tank a Legend's career.

She kept a warning glare on him when she extended her arm. His palm was warm against the cool of her wrist as she tried to squash the urge to pull away from his grasp. The strap was warm too, not so warm as his skin but still unexpectedly so. He looked up from what he was doing, his eyes catching hers.

"I figured leather was better." he answered a question she hadn't asked, a one-shoulder shrug as he turned back to securing the band, "Seems more your style."

When she watched but didn't answer, he amended the statement.

"You don't seem to really do metals."

Wraith said nothing about how the sentiment caught her off guard, her gut uneasy and squirmy that he'd noticed such a thing, or even that he'd bothered to adapt his design to her. Perturbed that he'd taken the time to do so before their Game, when she'd told him on no uncertain terms that she wouldn't be teaming with them again. When he was finished, she all but yanked her hand back.

The cooler steel of the casing was a gentle weight against her wrist. She wondered if he'd brought it just in case she was assigned to them, despite the slim odds. She wondered if he had another in his pocket or if he'd have given it to whoever else might've taken her place.

She wondered why she cared.

"Thank you," she said, for want of something else to say.

Mirage grinned wide.

"You don't even know what it does yet," he crowed, "just wait till you _see_!"

The ship doors clicked and hissed as they slid open, unlocked and waiting. The roar of the air woke Wraith's blood, and adrenaline started to trickle into her limbs. Several squads threw themselves out their doors instantly, eager for the ground. Wraith dug her fingers into the metal rail to fight the urge to follow.

"Airbase?" Mirage hummed, and Pathfinder shifted from one foot to the other, and back again.

"Agreed." he answered.

There was a pause before both faces turned her way, and Wraith blinked.

"Agreed."

From the size of Mirage's grin, you'd think she'd said something much more interesting, as he turned away with a nod.

"Okay gang, ready up." he commanded, before stepping from the ship a few seconds later.


	28. Chapter 28

_Chapter Twenty Eight_

_Behind you._

Almost the second her toes hit the ground, Wraith was being shot at. Someone had lucked out right behind her, straying from their own squad to chase her dive-trail down when she broke off from the others. Fuck, they must have scored a gun in the very first box they opened. She wove side to side as she bolted down the runway. Let them waste the ammo.

She slid across the rough tarmac as a ricochet clipped her heel and rolled behind the loot bin, throwing the lid up. Seconds on the ground and probably already bleeding from the burn of scrapes along her legs. Great.

Shotgun bolt, sniper clip, thermite grenade. _Shit._

She grabbed the thermite grenade while the sound of footsteps grew closer and hurled it without aiming to lurch towards the next loot bin. She popped it too, still no gun. The gunfire chased her out of cover and she scrabbled with the third lid, biting her tongue when the round hit her in the hip and snatched up the first thing she saw, spinning on her heel and pulling the trigger. The burst went long, slicing sideways across the figure and buying her a second to duck back into cover.

When movement popped behind the abandoned forklift, two further bursts put them down. Wraith sidestepped and confirmed the kill. Without pause, she slipped back behind the open bins incase there were others. She replaced the clip and let herself take a breath.

"Kill confirmed." she finally answered the concerned voices in her ear, and she took a second to grab her breath before looting the ammo and weapon from the fallen opponent. She pocketed the bits and pieces from the crappy bins and headed for the zipline across the water. Better she was with her squad since she was already wounded.

"Body armour, level two."

Pathfinder's voice notified her as her toes left the edge, trusting the rope to keep her from the sheer drop, and she tapped the bump on the side of her watch to keep the ping marker there for her to follow.

"I'll take that. I need a heal if you find one."

"Noted, friend."

The adrenaline had settled to a more manageable level already, and her hip was beginning to sting just from the pull of muscle as she hung in the air. She needed to dig the bullet out, if she could. Too early to ignore it. She was lucky it hadn't shattered the bone. Although it almost certainly had more to do with bad aim than luck.

"What are you running?" came the next query as she eased herself back onto solid ground, "There's some spare Heavy here if that was a Hemlok I heard."

His teasing tone told her he was pretty sure on that front, and despite herself Wraith snorted in amusement.

"Sounds good."

"I shall keep watch."

Pathfinder chattered brightly about what he could see from his perch atop the wall once Wraith was safely inside the closest shelter, and it only took her a moment before she had the bullet successfully removed. It had been surprisingly close to the surface, another ricochet by the look of it. It wasn't even bleeding too bad, thankfully. More an irritation than a hinderance. Losing blood right at the beginning of the day was just annoying. Mirage retrieved the fresh rounds for her, dropping them beside her as he passed through to empty the far bins, and Wraith felt better once she had shields and more than a measly handful of rounds. She traded the stolen RE-45 for an abandoned EVA-8 and adjusted the various straps until she was satisfied.

"That stray's team went to Runoff, looks like." Mirage hummed thoughtfully when he was back at her side, and Wraith snorted.

"Idiotic play, dropping so far away."

Mirage merely gave her a flirtatious grin and waggled his eyebrows.

"Maybe they just couldn't resist your trail."

The vicious glare she shot him earned her nothing but laughter, though the faint sound of approaching feet not long after had a much more sobering effect. She hefted the rifle into her hands and cocked a brow at him, and he took point. They eased themselves from the building and along the towering wall. Definitely someone approaching. With an obnoxious click of his fingers, a startlingly realistic hologram sprang forth, running from their shadow and towards the opening in the high wall. Wraith watched it absently, her gaze scanning what little she could see of the horizon with such a poor angle, and so it almost caught her by surprise when her wrist gave a melodic ping just as the fake Mirage shattered and disappeared.

There on her map was a round blue dot. It disappeared in seconds, Mirage's Longbow leaving a mighty crack in the air before he turned to her. His kill counter flickered to life. His eyes were lit with pride and smugness and his grin was toothy.

"Told you it'd help."

It dawned on Wraith what had happened, and she was more than a little impressed, if she was honest.

"That's handy." she said instead, but Mirage chuckled like she'd stroked his ego anyway, and she rolled her eyes before turning back towards the faraway cover.

She flicked her fire type to single and cocked an eyebrow without looking at him again. They waited several seconds, but if anyone further was approaching, they were being much stealthier than their companion had been.

"What's your cooldown?"

Mirage clicked his fingers again and the hologram appeared, racing out into the open. Wraith kept one eye on it and one on her wrist, and when the dashing figure scattered into nothing, the blue dot guided her eye. The trigger fell under her touch, and in seconds her PDA was raising her killcount to two.

With naught but a second's pause Pathfinder had claimed the third, and the first full squad of the Game had fallen. When Wraith lowered her gun and got to her feet to head out she said nothing more, but Mirage looked pleased enough with himself anyway.

~.~

Wraith tossed the blood-soaked rucksack over her shoulder and twisted her other arm through the matching strap. She stepped over the body at her feet and cleared away from it to let the collection crew do their thing. Scaling the balcony into the building proper, she swept an eye across the open space by the waterfall, but there was no sign of anybody racing to catch them after the fight.

She eased the door shut with her shoulder anyway, just in case. Pathfinder looked up in greeting from the corner atop the stairs, deftly knotting the bandage he had wound around Mirage's arm. She briefly met the Trickster's eye, but he only grinned. So he was fine, despite taking a sniper round just above the elbow.

"Not my gun arm." he informed her cheerily, waving the other hand at her.

"Good." she answered while taking up position by the barred window, "Still got a long way to go."

"Five teams left to defeat." Pathfinder chirped in helpful agreement.

"Piece of cake." Mirage laughed.

Of course Wraith was right to disagree, for it was very much not a piece of cake that lay between them and the end of the Game. In fact, not five minutes after that exchange they found themselves ambushed en route to Artillery.

Stuck in the open with the Ring at their backs, what had been a relatively slow Game for them was suddenly more dicey. Wraith cut through the air, feeling the kiss of the bullet trajectories as the Void deflected them, but there was nowhere to run for without seriously separating herself from her team.

The Elite appeared in front of her just as she returned to the late afternoon air, and the round that cracked Wraith's shield was delivered at point blank range. She dove in surprise, crashing into the waiting bracken and twisting back to her feet in the hopes of circling.

A grappling hook clanged bluntly against a tree nearby but Wraith had lost her rifle in the previous scuffle and found her fingers closing around the handle of a blade as she pounced. The soldier hollered when their bodies collided, and despite how viper-fast Wraith struck her with the blade, the gun went off. Wraith collapsed atop her with a jagged gasp, her hands slipping when they sought purchase.

Copper coated her tongue and flooded her nose and she threw herself harshly to one side with a growl. The blood-slicked Konai in her hand was as familiar as an extra limb and ready, but the panicked rustling was gone.

"Bangalore out." she spat into her comms, realising only when she drew her next breath that something was seriously wrong.

"I'm pinned!" Mirage was yelling, but Wraith's heartbeat was punching hard in her ears and there was warmth pooling down her abdomen and soaking her waist.

_Syringe._

_Get coagulants, now!_

_They're coming!_

Wraith tore blindly for her rucksack, the silver body of the syringe in the side pocket slipping between her fingers and almost disappearing into the brush. She tore the cap off as the crashing sound of oncoming opponents hurtled towards her, and stabbed the needle through her shirt and into her ribs.

She was barely on her feet and ducked behind another tree when someone stumbled over the body, and Wraith drew her EVA up to take general aim and let the shot punch through the shadowy branches inaccurately. She rounded the tree fast and shot again, downing the Medic.

"Fuck." Lifeline spat as Wraith snatched her pistol from her hand, before she put two rounds into her heart.

Wraith spat blood off to one side as she heaved in air, hauling the Medic's kit open to see what she could find. Her Hemlok still missing and her shotgun down to a measly seven rounds, she needed _something_ to help-

"I am down!"

"Path!"

The Kraber shot silenced everything else for just a second, and Wraith's PDA chimed sadly. She froze for a second where she was, her head snapping towards the sound, but her teammate's curse only confirmed what she already knew. Pathfinder was out.

"Need a little help here, Wraith."

Calm and clear with only the tightness to tell her he was in pain, Mirage was in bad shape. She gave up looking for a better gun and forced her legs to move despite the blood that was starting to congeal on her thighs.

"I'm on my way."

She reloaded the P2020 with a grimace. It would have to do for now.


	29. Chapter 29

_Chapter Twenty Nine_

When people say _it was all a blur_, what they're really saying is that their conscious minds tried to slow down what happened to make sense of it, instead of speeding up to meet it. At least, that's what Wraith believed. She didn't know where she'd gotten that from, whether it was whispered to her in the mess of her early days, the jumbled fog that a lot of her days sometimes fell into after her escape. But it made sense.

The brain was just another muscle that needed training, a set of instincts to hone. You had to be reactive in the Games, or you were dead meat waiting for the final bullet.

This ghosted over Wraith's mind as she bolted through the trees, an absent tangential thought in a corner of her mind while the Voices were calling commands. Just because she didn't stop to look at it properly didn't mean it wasn't there in the peripherals. The Games were a lot like that, she'd learned. The landscape of her own mind was as much a space as the one she was physically in, just like the Void was. It helped, to think of it like that.

Her ankles would be torn from the brush, if it weren't for the wraps of fabric there to prevent just that. There was nothing she could do about her footfalls, the sounds much too loud, but she hoped the ongoing fire would be enough distraction. they'd been ambushed, and quickly third-partied. It might even work to her advantage, if she could get in and get him out without stopping.

"_Shit_, my shields-"

"Get out of fire, duck and cover." she barked back instantly, sensing the familiar rise in the terrain that told her the steep drop into the flattened ditch path awaited just through the next thick copse. Rookies might not see it coming, but Wraith was no rookie. She knew the Arena inside out. She felt the ground tell her.

"On it."

She thought maybe she heard it, faintly, the sound of his tech and he activated his cloak. Or maybe it was just that she knew he must have. As she burst through the tightly woven trees, she launched herself from the edge, hitting just right with the ball of one foot to hurl herself into the air. The reactive yell was too late, because she'd already torn open the air like a fish in water, letting the drop carry her to the ground as she whirled on Mirage's position, blinking dangerously on her wrist.

"The- it's _her!_"

The gunfire smattered the portal opening where she'd left it; a rend in the fabric of the air just above the overhanging dirt and grass above the ditch. By the time they knew her play, they'd be too late. She already knew that.

She danced between thrown grenades, feeling the blasts impact vaguely in her path as the two teams turned on her, too afraid to focus fully because they each were there, too aware of the danger she posed to ignore her completely. Confusion was her friend, here. Her wrist pinged. Someone had decided to take advantage of her distraction, and taken down one of the others. Responsive fire ensued but Wraith paid it almost no heed, keeping it in her peripheral mind as she located his rock. She rounded it in front, blurring the air just enough to make their aim skew.

"Don't stop." she snapped the instant she was through, one hand catching the shoulder of his holosuit and hauling him into the line of sight to gain momentum, "Run!"

He followed her, his feet tripping only once. She'd thank his reflexes later, for not querying her while she dragged him into fire without shield. As she'd expected, the dynamic of the fight slowed them all enough, and by the time they'd turned their crosshairs on them Wraith was gone, and Mirage with her.

Their momentum carried them out, and in seconds they were re-emerging to tumble back down amongst the trees. Wraith slipped through the trunks like a shadow but Mirage, being less prepared for the drop, - or indeed the Void at all, - crashed into the thick underbrush with a bitten-off curse, his shields clinking when he scrambled to his feet again amongst the surprised volley of rounds that were turned their way too late.

Wraith located the abandoned loot of her two kills, bodies retrieved already by the unobtrusive extraction teams and probably already halfway to the MedStation. Her Hemlok was still somewhere, of course, but she tore open the crate that had been left where Lifeline had fallen. They didn't have time for a break, but she needed a second weapon.

"Warn a guy, next time."

Wraith didn't look at him, standing where he'd approached and rubbing his shoulder.

"Your shields need filling."

His snort betrayed his irritation as more than his expression would lead her to believe, and Wraith said nothing further while he pulled out a shield cell and twisted the pull. The cooling barrel of the Carbine slid against her palm when she retrieved it. She pocketed the extra clips of Light ammo and two grenades, trading her helmet out for the golden glint of the Medic's. Mirage dug through Bangalore's gear, swift and efficient, at least. By the time she'd dumped her shotgun, he was shouldering his rucksack once more.

She met his eye with a curt nod, and his lips pursed just for a second.

"I got Path's Banner."

Wraith took the lead, skirting the thinner areas of cover and abandoning the fight that was wrapping up, for the ticking of the Ring timer was getting urgent. They'd be better off in end-game territory, with any stolen moments the could salvage to prepare for whoever else was left alive.

"There aren't any Beacons left."

"I know." he answered.

Wraith didn't have anything else to say on the topic, least of all when the expression she caught on his face was… cryptic. She felt the frown between here own eyes, but he offered nothing more so she left it alone. If he wanted to carry a Banner he couldn't utilise for a Respawn, that was his business. To Wraith, it was a strange and unexpected sentimentality.

"The bunkers are our best bet." she said instead, setting a brisk pace despite the uneven terrain.

"Lead the way, Kill Leader." he chirped, obnoxious grin back in place.

~.~

_You're in their sights!_

They'd deduced her path. Wraith threw herself to one side well before the door she'd entered through even began to fall closed behind her, but they had the advantage and the Eva was a meagre two feet away.

The shell shredded the last of her shields. Her wrists burned too badly from her latest trip onto the sanctuary of the Void. She was stuck in this path for now. Wraith stumbled from the impact, fingers racing for a grenade. She ducked the next shot, palming the Thermite into one hand and hurling it at Bloodhound's feet. While they were forced to stamp out the fire licking up their ankles, Wraith was already sprinting for cover behind the nearest-

The pellets tore into the back of her thigh, and her leg gave out, inches from safety. _Shit_. The R301skidded from her fingers when they shot the hand raising it. Wraith drew a sharp breath and rolled away form the next shot, but the fourth caught her in the hip before she could find her feet and she landed hard on her shoulder once more.

_The pistol._

Wraith ignored the tearing pain in her side, adrenaline surging her torso forwards even as instinct screamed to go the other way. Her palm scraped along the grip, and though she curled herself away the instant it did she wasn't fast enough. The pellets tore into her chest, nearly blinding her with the sheet lightning of agony. She hissed and bared her teeth, pulling the gun level.

The tremor in her arm, quite probably from nerve damage, sent her shots wide. Breathing was growing difficult, and there was blonde on her tongue. In her mouth, as she fired.

_Move!_

Wraith rolled away from their next shot and hard onto her elbow as Mirage's cloak dissipated. He glanced to her, and it clicked. Bloodhound swung the barrel of the Eva toward him and tugged back the pump. The sound was clear and familiar as the moment fractured in Wraith's mind.

_Now!_

She didn't think. She choked out an unintelligible cry and spun the pistol in her hand, snapping her wrist back to send it pinwheeling across the floor.

And Mirage, in an almost alarming display of dexterity, spun past the blast of the gun and reached down. His weight rested neatly on the ball of one foot, the image jarring, a modified ballet move in a fight to the death. The pump grated out again with deadly intent. Mirage's hand flicked, fingers catching the edge of the borrowed P2020 and drawing it up in the same instant his other foot hit the ground again.

The shotgun blast destroyed all other sound, until the blare of the end-of-game cannon shattered the air. Wraith drew breath. It was all she could do for a moment to stare at Mirage where he stood, her pistol steady, watching Bloodhound fall to the ground.

Time froze. Or maybe they did, Mirage turning to her as the music filled the room, his eyes wide as he sought her. A strange, hysterical kind of laugh threatened to leave her throat at the expression on his face. Adrenaline rushed around her body, taking enough edge from the pain to keep her vision clear.

"We did it," he breathed, blinking, gun still held cocked in his hand, "we did it."

Wraith felt a faint smile touch her lips, blaming the realisation of victory for the way it felt in that instance to watch the Trickster turn to the gun in his hand as though it were somehow in possession of untold power.

"Welcome to the Champion's Board." she returned, slumping heavily on her good arm as it dawned across his face just what he'd done.

He turned to look back at her with a new grin on his face, something not quite obnoxious and not quite _not_ obnoxious. Something… Something _new._ Wraith imagined, for the briefest heartbeat, that she was seeing a part of him he'd been able to keep hidden until right then.

A fanciful and awkward thought probably caused by bloodloss, that disappeared as the sound of the retrieval ship registered in her ears.

"I won." he loosed a giggly, breathless kind of laugh and threw his head back, arms thrown out to his sides, "I _won_!"

When he turned her way to help her to her feet as the Medics arrived, his familiar trademark grin was fully back in place. He bragged and flirted with the team on board the ship as they stemmed Wraith's bleeding and patched his more minor injuries, but Wraith couldn't bring herself to say anything scathing while he babbled.

"I'm good, but there's two of me." he chirped delightedly as they began work on Wraith onboard, his expression bright and gleeful, "So I'm good _twice_! Check out that math."

She swallowed down the pithy retort that danced to her tongue. After all, a first victory as an Elite is a hard-won Championship, and he should be allowed to enjoy it. At least that's what Wraith told herself as she grew drowsy under the high-grade painkillers, to avoid thinking about how it hadn't been as unpleasant as she'd feared to fight beside him again.


	30. Chapter 30

_Chapter Thirty_

The tension in the room was palpable, the electric crackle of battle almost tangible, like salt and grit with an undertone of copper. Despite knowing the outcome, the air was tight with held breaths.

_"Left! Left!"_

_The pretence of calm gone, blood splashed on the stone. A moment; training and thought gone, instinctive need for survival taking over. A breath of smoke. The crack of bone on concrete. That humming sizzle, so low you barely heard it, that sounded so much like the other side peering through the shimmering rend in the air. But there was no tear, no fresh path._

_A Spitfire roaring, biting into the walls in a perfect arc like the precise stroke of a paintbrush. The flicker of light that vanished too fast for them to decide whether they'd truly seen it. A barking yelp, cut off. The slump of a body, the out-of-place sob that sounded painful and involuntary. The crash of the door opening, and then the whine of the hinge as it closed, the muted cracking of rounds hitting the bulletproof plexiglass. The high whistles as the bullets only bevelled the surface._

_And then the door again, the barreling figure, the reactive thump of a shotgun._

_And then, there, the trade. A body bloodied, gasping as she fell, her opponent dead before the ground reached him. Wraith heaved a breath, features daubed in red and pain, fingers long and fast as she applied pressure, fought the visible urge to curl on one side, her eyes still bright with life and darting across the room as Bloodhound turned her way._

_And then, as fast as they had, they were turning away to level the barrel at the man who'd appeared right there as though from the air, the irrational thought that he could do what she could. Before it was gone, the shotgun going off, the pistol spinning endlessly across the room._

_The movement from another angle, the exchange perfectly captured forever. The rapid shots, still almost indistinguishable from the deafening punch of the Eva. The win._

"That! That right _there!_" Octane hollered, falling back on the table as he whooped wildly, "_That_, compadre, was a sweet winning _move_, eh?"

Mirage shrugged one shoulder in playful modesty as a round of agreement went up, still leaning heavily back on his hands with his legs swinging, though less energetically than Octane's had been.

"I know," he lilted, "I'm _a-_mazing, it's true."

Octane punched him playfully in the ribs.

"And modest too, when yor team did most of thee work." he leaned down to look at Lifeline, chuckling, "Two kills was it, Ajay?"

The medic snickered, tipping her head back to look at them both.

"Sounds abou' right, yeah."

Mirage made a show of being offended, reeling off a babbling explanation about how it was a team effort and how kills weren't everything, and it was _three_, when Pathfinder joined in helpfully.

"That is true, friends. It was a team effort. Had Wraith not surrendered her weapon, our chances of winning would have been much lower."

He held out his hands, giving her a double thumbs up, and directing all eyes to where she sat; cross-legged atop the stacked tables at the other end of the room. She found a smile from somewhere, still not thrilled to be there, and winced as adjusting her position bothered the stitches across her abdomen.

"That was some good teamwork," Bangalore murmured, tossing peanuts into her mouth in a sharp, practiced movement, "good coordination."

Wraith couldn't deny it - though she'd liked to have done - for it _had_ been a case of imperatively good timing.

"We were in sync." Mirage chuckled while flicking his hair, "Clearly the best team won today."

When Octane knocked his shoulder again and an amiable round of arguing went up, the Trickster only grinned wider.

"I'm just sayin', I'm just sayin'." he laughed, holding his hands up as several peanuts and pieces of popcorn were playfully tossed his way.

"You were good togetha'." Lifeline said when the noise died down, leaning back against the table leg behind her and pushing Octane's own leg out of her space with a wry glance his way, "A good squad is hard t' come by, but I betcha know tha' already."

For a second, Wraith was almost sure something flickered in Mirage's face before he snorted.

"All true, all true. But it's official now, I'm up on the board. You better watch out from now on."

Pathfinder made a sound similar to laughter as Mirage was knocked from his perch by a collection of bodies, and Wraith watched on with a wry expression, deciding that maybe it had been worth giving in to the request and turning up. Even if only to see Mirage be tackled to the ground by the small mountain that was Gibraltar.

~.~

"It's funny, don'tcha think?" he spoke up thoughtfully, looking at her conversationally as they walked the empty hallway, "The gun, that won us the Game?"

The Voices that had been murmuring so quietly to each other in the back of head fell silent. Wraith felt as though they were turning his way as she did, and she felt the tingle in the air as though she was missing something important.

"What about it?" she asked, feeling like the world had hushed as he met her eyes with his own.

This was a mark in her timeline, something told her, though she didn't know who or what. The Voices stayed silent, waiting. Premonition was a curl at the back of her neck.

"It being the one you killed me with, before."

The pieces clicked together slowly, almost painfully slowly, as it dawned on her what he was saying.

"When?" she asked in a breath, though she knew, she knew.

"When you got me on that ledge by Thunderdome, four Games ago." his lip rose at the edge, a faint smile, "You told me 'Unlucky drop', and killed me."

Wraith stayed quiet, watching something move behind his eyes as he blinked and chuckled. A lazy shrug, his face turning away towards the doors that were drawing near. Wraith felt the air shifting.

"I just think it's funny that you end up giving me the same gun to win our first Game together, that's all."

He didn't say anything more, and the weight of their feet was thick between them in the dwindling hallway. He'd ignored her protests, as she'd slipped from the room while the others headed for the bar, trotting after her like an unwanted dog. All she wanted was to get to bed, to sleep off the Game and… arrange her thoughts.

Things had been out of place for weeks now, this strange new attention from Mirage, the way she found herself doubting her conviction to hiss and kick at keep him at knifepoint. The strange way the Voices whispered when she best tried to ignore them. The days had felt charged. Something was changing, her instincts told her. Something big, that couldn't be ignored. But what? On that front, there had been no help from the Void.

"Lifeline was right, you know." he said suddenly, as she was pushing open the door to her corridor.

His voice startled her back into the moment, expecting him to look chagrinned when she turned her impatient eyes on him.

He stood a few steps behind her, poised to move off instead of tailing her all the way to her room like he'd started making a habit of. Wraith didn't ask, for she knew what he was saying, and instead only looked back at him as he tipped his head one way and smiled at her in a way that had her defences crawling up.

"We make a good team."

She couldn't find the words to lie, but she was reluctant to agree.

"Goodnight, Mirage."

His chuckle was not dissuaded. His confidence was infuriating, smug and unwavering in the most unfortunate moments. The urge to do something rose. To spit something sharp, to shove him, to remind hims he carried her Konai always. Instead, she did nothing. He only seemed to take it as encouragement.

"Sweet dreams, Wraith."

He only grinned at her unimpressed expression. She could feel him watch her walk away. Fucking idiot, poking fire to see if it'd burn him. Words from Bangalore muttered in her head, and made Wraith's mouth lift in one corner. Target practice.

However, when Wraith slipped under her sheets, his words were still whispering through her head like a warning she couldn't shake.

"We did make a good team." she could admit only then, a whisper in the safety of darkness and with no-one but herself to testify that she had.

It was with no small amount of wonder, either. It surprised her how well they'd worked, feeling much like it could have been a fluke, were it not for the knowledge that they'd paid attention too close to each other for it to be solely down to luck. They really had made a good team.

_A dangerously good team._


End file.
